Blessings from Malice
by sarhea
Summary: One American billionaire, plus one English witch, plus one malicious wizard looking for power, equals a whole lot of changes in the British magical enclaves. COMPLETE : Hermione Granger Bruce Wayne : AR for Harry Potter, more cartoon for Justice League
1. Preludes

Primary Pairing/Characters: Hermione Granger Bruce Wayne

Crossover Fandoms: Harry Potter, DCVerse, Justice League (the cartoon), Batman: the Animated Series

Warnings: Character Death, Torture, Violence

Author's Notes: Batman is OOC, more in line with the cartoon series than the comics.

Summary: The League gets a few clues.

AN: The first part of this chapter takes place two months in the past, it leads to what follows (the second part). What happens inbetween is in the next chapter.

* * *

**...ooO Preludes Ooo...**

"It has been confirmed. We need the mudblood."

"The Granger bitch?! Why her? Surely there are other, more worthy candidates."

"All the signs indicate she is the most suitable vessel." The hooded figure looked around the circle of similarly clad men and women. "We must do everything we can to increase our chances of success. We've already lost too much since the Dark Lord's Second Fall."

"It has been more costly than usual to form ties with the new Department Heads. Shacklebolt has been authorizing several random audit teams led by Granger herself. I paid a fortune to bribe witches and wizards holding five key positions and just three weeks later two of them were reassigned and the others are too nervous to be helpful!"

"Then it is agreed. There have been too many changes. To restore our rightful way of life we must act now. As one."

There was a tense moment before all the figures signalled their agreements.

"Good. Now the only thing left is the choice of sire."

A younger voice spoke with disdain. "Surely you do not expect one of us to…" He trailed off with a shudder.

"No. A Muggle would be more suitable. One of great status and power in his world."

"Do you have any candidates in mind?"

The older wizard produced a newspaper, a tabloid daily with still non-Magical photos. The front page was dominated by the picture of a dark-haired man with a broad powerful frame dressed in a tailored black tuxedo accompanied by a gorgeous blonde in a silver-white sequined dress at a banquet hall. The headline read: American Playboy Billionaire in UK. There was a smaller headline below it. "Bruce Wayne plans to visit Scottish subsidiaries as part of European tour."

"Why him?" The young one asked idly.

"With polyjuice, we can easily arrange for a large amount of his personal fortune to be moved into our control before someone notices. Even if they make a fuss they can't stop a wealthy man from 'making a donation' to a private organization. It will help finance some of our future plans."

"Okay. So who is planning the kidnappings?"

...ooOoo...

"Alfred, we've found him."

Alfred Pennyworth looked up into the grim face of Richard Grayson. "Master Bruce?"

"Yeah. He's alive but suffering from partial amnesia. A German tourist found him in Scotland and took him to a local clinic. He can't remember a thing about what happened to him after he entered his hotel room."

Alfred nodded slowly. The police had been concerned, but by the time they acted there were no traces. The Justice League had moved more quickly when Batman failed to respond to JLA calls; but even they failed to pick up a trail. It was as though Bruce Wayne had vanished off the face of the Earth for five weeks.

"Is he…?"

"He's okay. There are signs of unaccounted for injuries but they've been treated. In fact they look as though they've been healing a lot longer than five weeks."

"Alien abductors? Advanced healing technology?" Alfred wanted to know.

Richard shook his head. "No. At least Jonnz doesn't think so." He hesitated. "He thinks the mystical might be involved in the mind-wipe. Batman is on the Watchtower to get a complete check up."

---

On the WatchTower, Batman glanced at the Martian Man Hunter. It was just the two of them in the one of the private rooms attached to the medbay.

"We need to know who did this and how this happened. Is this is just a one-time event or something more common." Batman growled.

Jonzz nodded. "I understand and agree. But you must understand the blocks in your mind are something I have never encountered before. It might take hours or days to work through all of them. And when we break through, I might end up knowing all what you know, to what extent I am not certain. It would be a great intrusion on your privacy." Then he offered diffidently. "We can work at a slower pace. It will take more time but it will be more controlled."

Batman considered the offer and shook his head. "No. We need to know. Now."

Jonnz nodded. "All right. Lie down and try to get comfortable." He glanced over at the health monitors. "If we run into problems I will ask Fate or Zatanna to join us since I believe the mystical played a role in causing your amnesia."

Batman nodded grudgingly as he complied. "I'm ready."

"All right. Focus on the last thing you remember."

"I was in the hotel room. There was something wrong. Something off…"

"Hold onto that feeling."

Batman ignored the reflexive urge to reach out and strike defensively when he felt the Martian Man Hunter's presence in his mind, probing around gently in blank and dark areas.

And then Batman remembered. He remembered it all.

...ooOoo...

TBC…

* * *

AN: The first part of this chapter takes place two months in the past, it leads to what follows (the second part). What happens inbetween is in the next chapter.


	2. Four Weeks Earlier

Summary: Bruce Wayne finds himself in a situation Batman cannot get out of.

AN: Events in this and the following chapter take place between the first and second half of the Prelude (previous chapter).

* * *

**...ooO Four Weeks Earlier Ooo...**

Bruce Wayne frowned at the sounds drawing close. Scuffles, scraping, flesh hitting flesh drawing grunts of pain and screams of fury. He wasn't quite used to being kidnapped and restrained so thoroughly. But then again, most of his training was focused on escaping and evading electronic security and physical barriers, not magic.

Cautiously he paced towards the door of his cell and reached out. And recoiled when his fingers brushed over an invisible barrier that induced a painful energy feedback that left no visible marks but sensitized the nerves tenfold. The sounds were getting louder. The screams were too high to be from a man. And he was right.

The cell door banged open to reveal two men carrying a struggling brunette, their faces bleeding heavily from wounds she had probably inflicted. Behind them were three other men standing with their wands raised, ready to use magic in case she got free.

"Crucio the bitch!" Thug 1 shouted when her hand got free enough to swipe against his face leaving three long gashes. How on earth did nails do so much damage?

"No! She's already been hit too many times. We need her in good shape." Watcher 1, with long platinum blonde hair and cool grey eyes, ordered.

"Throw her into the ward." Watcher 2, ordered with an insane smile.

Bruce watched, shocked, as they did just that. The moment her small form hit the invisible barrier lightening sparked as it lashed out and found a target – her.

She screamed just once before falling to the ground.

The magic using enemies smirked and laughed. But Watcher 1 frowned.

"Don't let your guard down." He ordered too late.

Somehow she ignored the agony she must have been feeling and forced her body to work past it. Moved to her knees and sprang forward arms extended, hands curved into claws just as they blurred.

"She's a primus animagus!" Thug 2 screamed as he was splattered by Thug 1's blood.

One clean swipe against a throat by a seemingly bare hand left a six inch gash that sliced the carotid blood vessels and spewed blood onto herself and Thug 2. With no restraint, she attacked the next closest enemy, Watcher 2. One clawed hand dug through the layers of fabric and deep into his side before the other stabbed into his face gouging out one eye.

Bruce edged back away from the melee. There were too many spells being cast using those sticks. Spells that caused very serious damage given the new burn marks on stone. Spells that she apparently had a natural defence or counter for. With absolutely no armour, it would be foolish to go up against opponents he knew nothing about.

"Mudblood! If you do not stop fighting I will kill the Muggle!" Watcher 1 shouted raising his wand.

To Bruce's shock she stopped. Her knee-length shift was torn, dirty, and bloodstained, her hair flowing down her back in a wild mane, small sparks dancing through the tresses.

"You wouldn't dare, Malfoy." She whispered hoarsely. "If you do I will never stop fighting. Besides, you've kept him alive for a reason."

"Perhaps." Watcher 1, now known as Malfoy, conceded. "But if we kill him you will know just how serious we are. And we can easily get another Muggle to replace him. Besides, his condition is not as important as yours. For now."

She did not say anything, though she clearly wanted to.

Malfoy smirked. "Your Gryffindor nobility will not allow you to leave a Muggle behind if you ever manage to get out of this cell. And even if you do escape, he will only be a burden and slow you down." He sneered. "You and I know that. So be a good mudblood bitch and step back. If you attack, I will Crucio him. And I sincerely doubt he would survive it. Even if he did, he would be no better than the Longbottoms."

She glared but grudgingly stepped back, her hands at her side.

Malfoy cast a spell at the wall and floor stones. "Move back."

Reluctantly, she obeyed and stepped back over the threshold limit of the barrier. The moment she crossed over, Malfoy cast another spell, presumably reactivating it.

Carefully she reached out and brushed her fingers over the barrier. Bruce winced internally. Just touching it for second was painful. Running fingers over it, testing it, as she was, would be agonising.

Malfoy smirked. "Make yourself comfortable. Meals will be deposited in the stasis cupboard. Don't worry, they won't be poisoned, and if you try harming yourself we will kill the Muggle."

She sneered. "Don't worry, Malfoy. If anyone is going to die, it will be you. This time I am not going to watch you walk after making generous 'donations' to the Wizengamot."

The older male stared at her hard before whirling around and leaving.

With sneers and angry mutters his badly mauled companions followed taking the two corpses and slamming the cell door shut behind them.

After a minute, she relaxed and fell to her hands and knees breathing hard. The fight had clearly taken a lot out of her.

"Are you all right?" Bruce asked hesitantly as he walked around to see her face.

She lifted her head. Her face was covered with bruises, her lip split and bleeding. But underneath she looked very young and vulnerable. Her pale brown eyes revealed a flash of fear and worry before she managed to bring it under control. Carelessly she pushed her long curly hair away from her face and sat back on her heels. She was definitely physically mature, with the bloodstained linen material strained over her unbound curves. She clearly wasn't wearing anything underneath seeing how clearly her nipples were pressed through the material. Gingerly, she crossed her arms in front of her, over her chest to block the view though she did not say anything about his unintentional free-show.

"Am I all right? Not really. I'll be a whole lot better if we can get out of here."

Bruce frowned. "I doubt it is going to be as easy we'd like it to be. They have clearly been planning this for a while."

She shuddered slightly and nodded. "Yes. They must have been following me. I try not to keep a regular schedule when visiting St Mungos." Then seeing his confused look she clarified. "It is a hospital. I have a few friends who are permanent residents."

"Including the Longbottoms?" Bruce inquired shrewdly.

She nodded. "Their son Neville was a classmate. I was discussing some alternative treatments with their case Healer when I was captured." She scowled when she realized something. "The bastard must have owled Malfoy as soon as I stopped by. If I get out of this I am going to have his license, his blood, and his firstborn in payment."

Bruce made note of the unknown term owled; presumably some method of communication like email, text or IM. He smiled the charming playboy smile that enchanted women of all ages.

"Since we are going to be roommates for a while why don't we introduce ourselves?"

She eyed him warily and shook her head. "Why don't we Not." She spoke firmly.

Bruce was taken aback. Surely she could see the sense in forming an alliance. "Why not?"

She stared at him. "Last time I was captured they put me in a cell with an old friend, only it was not her because she was dead. If I didn't know that I would have revealed sensitive information that could have been used against my colleagues." Gold simmered in honey brown eyes. "For all I know this is a similar trick but instant of an old acquaintance it is an innocent Muggle."

Bruce frowned. "Muggle. What does that term mean?"

She eyed him warily. "It means not magical."

"Sounds rather rude."

"I think so too. Figures, given that some pureblood probably came up with it. I prefer the term mundanes myself."

Bruce considered the information. "Are you metas?" He asked suddenly.

"Metahumans? I suppose we could be called that. But we prefer to be called wizards and witches."

"And you use sticks to cast your spells." Bruce noted.

"Wands." She corrected absently.

Bruce considered the information. "Do you have any idea why they kidnapped us?"

She sighed. "Knowing Malfoy it could be anything. I don't have enough information to speculate. Besides I should not be discussing this with you."

Bruce frowned. "And why not? I am involved in this situation. I need information to make a good decision if I get the opportunity to escape."

She considered his argument and nodded. "It is not going to do you much good because you won't be allowed to remember." She warned. "If we are rescued your memories will be wiped, obliviated. It is not something I like, but it is standard procedure to obliviate any mundane witnesses to magic, so they don't go around telling everyone. If we aren't rescued, we are probably going to die so it won't matter anyway."

Bruce was taken aback. "I don't like the idea of someone taking away my memories. They are mine!"

Hermione nodded. "I understand. I have obliviated others and been obliviated myself and I don't like either experience, but it is required by Magical Law to enforce the Statute of Secrecy. A few government officials like the Prime Minister of Britain may know but others are not supposed to be aware of wizarding society."

"Wizarding society?"

"Oh yes. There are hundreds of thousands of us all over the world. Most live in purely magical enclaves that cannot be accessed by mundanes though some, like myself, prefer living among mundanes."

"Why?" Bruce wanted to know.

She smiled bitterly. "Because of people like Malfoy. Pureblood, bigamist elitists. They don't like anyone from non-magical lineages to be taught magic. They call us Mudbloods." She pushed herself to her feet, wobbling for a brief second before regaining her balance. "Think of them as Nazis with Hitler's ideals on blood purity and completely intolerant of newcomers." She rolled her shoulders experimentally. "We can either toe the party line or stand against it." When she looked at him, it was with steely eyes. "I chose to make my stand. It has made many very… unhappy."

Bruce inhaled deeply hearing what was unspoken. "Okay. Bigotry is a fairly common human condition. What about your government? Your police officers?"

"The Ministry is a top heavy bureaucratic organization that makes Middle East governments appear basic. Bribery, patronage, cronyism are accepted practices even among the Aurors— the magical police. The legislative branch, the Wizengamot is just as corrupt, dominated by select families and it is almost impossible to change members except through death. We just came through a war that most non-magicals are completely ignorant about. Currently we have the favour of the people so we have been pushing hard to eradicate the dominant factors of the war, the power of the pureblooded families. Like any mob family, they are unwilling to give up power. Merlin only knows what they plan to do with us; just that We will not like the end results."

Bruce factored in the new information. "Any possibility of a rescue? Would someone report you missing?"

"Harry would. We work together and he is very familiar with my habits." Then she frowned. "But tracking us down is another story. We never even suspected Malfoy was involved in this. His family got off in the last war and we had believed he wouldn't jeopardize his freedom by getting involved in any new schemes. But clearly he has."

"Then I suppose the best thing we can do is wait and watch for a chance to escape." Bruce concluded.

She sighed and nodded her agreement.

"Okay. Since you have shared a lot with me, why don't you give me a name as well? You can call me Bruce."

She blinked slowly. "My name is Jane." At his disbelieving expression she continued, "it really is! Well technically it is Hermione Jane but I don't like it when people shorten the first one!" She warned him.

"All right. Hermione it is." He smiled more warmly. "Tell me, Hermione, what was it you did to that guy? It was like you had real claws!"

She blushed and looked hesitant before answering. "I'm an Animagus."

"He called you that. What does it mean?"

"An Animagus is a witch or wizard who can transform into a particular animal. I transform into a lioness. Usually it a complete transformation but with a lot of practice it is possible to partially transform select body parts." She held up her hands. A faint glow shimmered over them as fur sprouted over them, the fingers thickened and the nails lengthened into two inch claws. "It took me ages to learn how to do this. Most Animagi try to transform their sensory organs to mimic their animal forms. To increase their sense of smell, or to sharpen their sight or hearing."

Bruce reached out and was pleasantly surprised when she allowed him to feel her hands, the soft tawny fur, the strong corded muscles, the thick unyielding claws.

"Instant weapons." He whispered.

"Yes. Most wizards don't fight hand-to-hand. My father… He insisted I take self-defence courses. Some of the dojos taught weapon combat. I learned the basics of using tessen and nekote, fan and tiger-claws." She smiled wryly. "Of course I can only use it if I'm up close with my opponent and that is not my preference." She hesitated. "How have you been cleaning up? I'd like to get the blood off before it dries solid."

...ooOoo...

Bruce glanced over at his cellmate. The last five days had been an experience in self-control. He had ignored the casual mocking jabs his captors had directed to him when it had been just him. But when Hermione joined him the contempt and language reached a very dangerous and very personal level. All directed towards Hermione. However, she did not bow, or flinch, or look away from the crude, lewd words and very explicit threats of violence and sexual assault. When Bruce had asked her how she could stand it, her answer had been very blunt.

"I've had worse bile directed at me; when I was in school, during the war, during my apprenticeship, even now at work. Limited low minds that use limited tactics. Lucius Malfoy's son was like that, a nasty piece of work but until the very end not a real threat and ignorable. The father is far more dangerous. He will smile at you while he watches a hired assassin stab you in the back. And he will watch you die with that same smile."

Their meals appeared in conjured plates that dissipated within ten minutes so they couldn't break the plates or use the utensils as weapons. Luckily the cells were designed with wash facilities that provided clean water and disposed of wastes automatically. There was no furniture that could be broken and used to make weapons. Their beds were feather stuffed mattresses upon woven straw mats. The sheets were thin, but neither of them wished to rip and braid the material into ropes. Their captors deliberately kept the temperatures of the cell just below comfortable warmth.

Each evening before dinner, a minion entered the cell and cast a series of spells on Hermione and Bruce. Hermione had not recognized the spell and it drove her nuts. To distract her from worrying herself into second-doubts Bruce kept her talking. The third day he had asked her to explain something that was troubling him.

…ooO Begin Flashback ……

"Hermione?"

"What is it Bruce?"

"How can you bear to touch the ward barrier? It is painful. The more contact I have with it the more it hurts."

Her gold eyes turned inward. "Bruce, did I tell you about the time I was tortured?"

"Which time?" He asked jokingly. "It seems like you are an old hat at this."

She smiled faintly. "The first time I was subjected to a painful Dark Arts spell I was sixteen. Antonin Dolohov nearly cut me in two with a spell designed to cause massive internal injuries and nerve damage." She touched her breastbone. "The second time, I was eighteen when a psychotic Dark Witch named Bellatrix Lestrange used the Crucio curse on me." Her eyes focused on him intently. "Malfoy threatened to use the same curse on you. It is classified as an Unforgivable for a very good reason, Bruce. Two minutes under it can break an ordinary soul. Ten minutes has driven trained Aurors insane. After twenty minutes most die when the blood vessels in the brain burst from the strain the body is under." Her eyes focused on the distance. "Beautiful, manic, obsessed Bella; she loved using Crucio. She drove the Longbottoms mad using it. However, there is a trick to surviving it. It is something I have never been able to teach to a witch or wizard though." Her eyes honed on him with unnerving intensity. "Tell me Bruce, do you know anything about martial arts?"

"A bit. I spent a few years studying under a sensei in Japan."

"Do you know how a martial arts master is supposed to deal with pain?"

Bruce thought for a second. "Accept it."

"Exactly!" Her eyes burned hotly. "To overcome the Crucio you have to accept the pain, work with it, through it, and past it." Bruce opened his mouth to protest but was cut off. "Oh, it is not as easy as it sounds. Crucio is damn painful. I was subject to dear Bella's loving attentions for over an hour so I definitely know. Your nerves are so sensitive, it feels like you are being flayed layer by layer until you believe you cannot bear any more.

"But you know what? You are wrong. You can bear a whole lot more. The human mind is an amazing thing when it is free from perceived limits. There is a point where your psyche either breaks or bends. That day mine bent and I survived. You let it all go. Trying to hold onto the fragments is what destroys victims, any victims."

"Why do I get a feeling you're not just talking about Crucio."

"Because I'm not. I fought in the war and I lost a whole lot more than just friends. My parents were killed when I thought it was over and we were safe. But if I cling to the memory of loss I'll just be making myself miserable. So I don't. I let it all go and focused on the present, not the past. Now I am fighting for a future, not to avenge my loss." She inhaled deeply. "Something those bastards are making it very difficult to do."

...... End Flashback Ooo…

Both stiffened as the mild-looking weedy wizard cast the usual spell. However, this time he spoke instead of leaving the cell immediately.

"She's ready."

Both Bruce and Hermione rose up alarmed. Ready? Ready for what?

Before they could speak, pale purple smoke began flooding the room.

Bruce coughed hard and tried to cover his mouth and breathe shallowly. His muscles were going numb, his pulse slowing.

"Don't bother." Hermione whispered. She had fallen to her knees coughing harshly. "Breath of Dreams. Absorbed through skin."

And then she lapsed into unconsciousness, succumbing to the potent drug. Her smaller, lighter frame absorbed and reacted much faster than Bruce's larger one. Bruce struggled to stay awake but failed as darkness engulfed his senses.

...ooOoo...

Bruce was vaguely aware of someone speaking at a great distance.

"Make sure you Imperio him. Malfoy will have your bollocks if he breaks free and fights."

"Yeah. Everything has to be perfect. Tonight is the best night."

"What about the bitch?"

"Parkinson is looking after her. She'll be bound with three different Incarcerous charms before she is awakened."

"Make sure she is not faking sleep. The bitch has escaped from too many cells before."

"Well she didn't escape from this cell."

Sharp retorting tones. "Only because her conscience wouldn't allow her to leave the Muggle behind."

Smug and knowing. "Then it is a good thing we have him, isn't it?"

More sharp, loud, direct tones. "Muggle. Stand up. Walk down the corridor. Take the second right then third left."

Bruce was horrified to find his body automatically responding to the commands. Frantically he struggled to regain control and failed. It was too much. The usual methods of fighting hypnotic commands and drugs were not working. Then he remembered what Hermione had told him about combating undesired artificially induced mental conditions. Accept it, work with it, through it, and past it

Mentally he forced his mind to calm down to try Hermione's methods.

By the time they reached the room, Bruce had a fairly good grip on his mental state and was certain he could break free when he felt like it. Unfortunately, he wasn't certain if his 'handler' would be aware of his newfound freedom. Deciding discretion was the better part of valour he decided to wait and watch. If the opportunity came, he would break free.

He watched as their jailers set up a large copper bathtub in front of the oversized fireplace and filled it halfway full with water before pouring pale gold liquid from an old-fashioned clay amphora into it. There were piles of floor cushions around the tub and fireplace. Several piles of material rested on top of a small table a few feet away. Other jailers were arranging platters of fruit, cheeses and pitchers of liquids on a buffet table.

"Is she ready?" The familiar cold cultured tones spoke.

"Yes." The respondent was clearly a younger female. "Millie and Sofia are bringing her here. Don't worry, she won't get the neutralizing draught until she is in this room."

"Good. It is almost time."

Time? Time for what?

"Millie is here." The female sounded too gleeful.

Front a great distance away he saw Hermione float into his field of view. She had clearly been cleaned up by their captors. Like he had been. There were no traces of dirt or dried blood staining her hair, skin, or clothes. Her clothes were different, skimpier. A bottle green tank top that was cut short enough to expose a hand width of midriff. A green-black paisley print wrap around sarong style skirt that barely reached mid-thigh. Her arms were pressed against her sides, her legs together, her body bound by glowing white ropes.

"Did anyone touch her?" Malfoy inquired sharply.

"No one did!" The female was offended. "I know how important this is."

Malfoy nodded then tossed something on the oversized hearth. A puff of pale green smoke bloomed and began expanding out. Hurriedly he stepped back to avoid breathing in the smoke that coalesced into a pale amorphous form and floated towards Bruce then the bound floating female.

"Acceptable." The word came from nowhere in a high-pitched voice. "Both are strong souls with power in all spheres." Then the mist-form dissipated into thin air.

"Give her the neutralizer and put her in the bath." Malfoy ordered.

The female poured a vial of blue fluid on Hermione's arm before directing her floating body towards the copper bath. In seconds, the witch began struggling against her bindings. Before she could orient herself, she was dropped into the tub.

Malfoy and the female retreated towards the doorway and watched.

Hermione sank rapidly before she could twist her body and press her knees against the bottom of the tub, and her torso out of the slick gleaming fluid. When her head emerged over the edge of the bath, her hair was soaked with water and oil, her skin slick and gleaming from the same treatment, her skimpy garments clinging even closer to her skin. Her voice was harsh and panicked.

"What have you done!?!?"

Malfoy smirked. "Surely you know. Or have all your past lovers been so incompetent that they left you cold?"

"Why are you doing this? I am Muggleborn. He is a Muggle. We are the lowest of the low in your eyes." She whispered, her hands clenching and unclenching.

"True. But all the signs indicate you are the best choice." Malfoy glanced at Bruce. "He was just convenient."

A low wordless keen rose from her throat, increasing in pitch and intensity. The metal cups and platters flew, emptying their contents before flying straight towards the five hooded figures near the door.

One cried as his skull was cracked by a cup, another was nearly decapitated by the edge of a plate. Malfoy cast a spell that caused strange symbols to glow for a brief instant on the doorframe and stones just inside the room. The utensils hit an unseen barrier and dropped to the floor. Five hourglasses appeared just above the door lintel, floating in mid air. Then one flipped over and the sand began running into the bottom chamber.

Hermione growled and stalked towards the doorway, her hands morphing into claws, her pupils slitting and elongating. The blow left three lines of white energy on the unseen barrier that faded in seconds.

Malfoy smirked smugly at her.

"No one can enter or leave this chamber for five days. You and the Muggle will have all the privacy you need. I strongly suggest you do not try to resist Aphrodite's Brew for too long; you will go insane from unrequited need. If you fight the Brew for too long the results will not be enjoyable for your companion." She glanced at Bruce who was still sitting unmoving on the backless chair. "Don't worry about him. The Imperio will fade in a few minutes."

Gold slit-pupil eyes stared at Lucius Malfoy with pure open hatred. Inwardly he flinched. He never imagined the Gryffindor know-it-all mudblood could be capable of such raw, unbridled venom.

"I curse you Lucius Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode." Her harsh voice continued to list a dozen individuals both male and female. "I curse each and every one of you, your name and your blood. For three generations me and mine will watch for you and yours. The name and blood you are so proud off will be eradicated from the face of the world, this I vow. My children and theirs will track down and destroy all with the name and blood. We will eradicate your name, raze your lands with balefire, sterilize your bloodline, slaughter your guilty. All that you are so proud off will be purified with fire and death. Lord and Lady witness, as I will it so mote it be."

A pair of deep hollow chimes rang and two voices responded in tones so resonant it could be felt to the bone.

"Witnessed! Rightful Blood Feud declared and claimed by Hermione Jane, firstborn of Jane Elspeth and Daniel Mark."

A swirl of gold and silver sparks danced around Hermione before flying to her face and entering her cheeks, leaving a tracery of tiny gold and silver runic symbols tattooed across the arch of one cheekbone and down the side of her temple and cheek.

Each and every one of the witches and wizards standing beyond the doorway paled.

"I didn't sign up for a Class One Blood Feud!" The lead female screeched.

"Shut up Parkinson." Malfoy snarled. "The mudblood will not live long enough to carry out her vow. She will be dead before the end of the year. She has no relatives who can carry out the vow once she is gone. And the brat will be dead."

Then the door slammed shut and sealed up leaving no cracks, just a solid expanse of carved wood and metal.

At this point Bruce decided it would be prudent to find out exactly what just happened. Deftly he broke free from the Imperio. He stood up feeling slightly stiff. Carefully he walked towards her.

"Hermione? What just happened?"

She spun around, her eyes wild and frantic.

"Stay back!"

Bruce stopped and held his hands out low and in front so she could see them.

"Hermione? I'm not going to hurt you. I swear it."

She chewed on her lower lip and backed away and towards a wall. "Just stay away from me Bruce." She warned.

Unexpected hurt bloomed. "Hermione?" He asked hesitantly.

She shook her head violently. "Lust potion. Can't control. Stay. Far. Away." She explained in sharp choppy statements just as she slid down the wall to sit on her butt, her face pressed against her knees.

Bruce stopped. "The bath." He realized.

She looked up. The new metallic markings glimmered faintly on creamy skin. "Yes. Aphrodite's Brew." She shuddered.

"Tell me about it." He spoke softly.

She inhaled deeply and exhaled before repeating the process several times to gain control over her instinctive reactions.

"It was created by a devotee of the Goddess. It is a combination of fertility and lust potions that amplifies the natural abilities of the user through resonance. A couple would willingly pay a small fortune to seal their vows with the Brew since it increases the chances for healthy magical children. The recipe had been closely guarded by his descendants until the last ones were killed in the Grindelwald Wars and the recipe was lost. With no new supply, the demand for the remaining casks is cutthroat. Many of the old pureblood families need it since all the inbreeding has weakened their chances of having strong healthy children naturally. I can't believe Malfoy used it on me!" She screamed.

Bruce had a very bad feeling. "Why did he use it? What does he want?"

There was a long silence but Bruce was comfortable with tense silence and he waited. She inhaled deeply before responding.

"He made some sort of bargain. I don't know the name of the entity but he has promised it something. Guess what."

"Us?" Bruce asked hesitantly.

"Not quite. A child. Our child." She looked away. "Aphrodite's Brew. That little rat must have been using a Healer's spell to check my cycle." Her eyes were hard and direct. "I am not going to give them anything they want."

Bruce nodded carefully. "Hermione, Malfoy said you would go insane if you resisted."

Gold sparked in pale hazel eyes. "And they always claimed that Crucio is impossible to resist. But I found a way around it. I will find a way around this!" She shuddered slightly. "Just keep your distance. And don't touch me! The Brew cannot be wiped away and it will take five days for its effects to dissipate." She smiled thinly. "The honeymoon period."

Bruce nodded and glanced at the table and scattered plates and cups. "Do you think they've drugged that?"

"Most likely. Try to avoid eating or drinking unless you absolutely have to."

Bruce nodded. Carefully, he tore the covers from one of the cushions and used it to move the dropped food into one plate and to clean up the mess. A closer examination of the room revealed other furniture and amenities he had not noticed before. An over-sized ancient four-poster bed pushed up against one wall of the large room. A private enclosed washroom with a bath big enough for two. An intimate arrangement of cushions, chairs, and loveseats. All the furnishings were invitations to touch and explore, suede, silk, velvet. The place was clearly designed to encourage intimacy and sex.

He sat down and tried to ignore the looming threat, to focus on analysing the new information. He had a bad feeling they were running out of time.

...ooOoo...

TBC…


	3. Shattering Personal Limits

Summary: An experience in endurance that leads to a rescue. But not before Bruce Wayne does something Batman would never do.

* * *

**...ooO Shattering Personal Limits Ooo...**

The next twelve hours were tense. They barely talked. Hermione spent most of her time meditating. They drank water straight from the bath tap. It was less risky than drinking from the potentially drugged pitchers. The first night Bruce heard her restless motions, unable to sleep deeply. The next morning she awoke looking tired and drained though her movements were quick and decisive. By the time night fell, it was clear meditation was not having the desired effect.

She paced around the perimeter of the room, her strides only limited by the sheet she wrapped around her secured by a make-shift belt made from strip of torn material. Small static charges clung to her skin and hair. Her eyes were wide and dilated despite their slit-pupils. Her nails were shifting into claws. She took out some of her energy on the cushions leaving a small pile of shredded material and stuffing. But Bruce refused to let her destroy the chairs since he was using them to sleep, after pushing two of them up against each other, while she used the bed. By the time the sands ran out of the first hourglass, Bruce was very worried about her.

She looked like a junkie going through withdrawals. Her hands were trembling, darting around with no real purpose, her skin pale and clammy looking, her eyes dilated so much he could barely see her irises. Her knuckles were bruised and bleeding where she had slammed her clenched fists against the unforgiving stone. She was very near the end of her rope and he had no idea how to help her.

And then it happened.

She screamed, a low, keening sound that vibrated in his bones. Her flesh rippled and fur sprouted for a brief instant before she regained control. She dug her claws deep into the makeshift skirts, ripping the material and drawing blood.

"Hermione?" His voice dropped into lower registers.

Her eyes were wild, feral. "Stay back!"

Bruce watched horrified as she clawed at her thighs, deliberately slicing open her own flesh and skin. Just as quickly, the wounds healed, leaving only streaks of blood and cut cloth to show she had once been wounded.

"Stop it!" He ordered harshly.

She refused to obey. She crossed her arms across her chest and slashed at her upper arms. The wounds healed just as rapidly.

"Too much." She hissed. "Too much!"

"Too much what?" Bruce demanded to know in Batman's voice.

Her expression was terrified. "Everything. It burns. It aches. It strains."

"Where?"

"Everywhere!" She snarled, brushing her hands over her front, over her breasts, belly, groin, and thighs. She stalked towards the fireplace and thrust her hands into the flames.

Bruce watched horrified as the scent of charred flesh filled the room. She was using the pain to focus. He could not let her keep doing this to herself!

He crossed the room and grabbed her by her hair to pull her back and away from the fire before releasing his grip and stepping away. She fell on her butt and snarled as she moved to her knees in a crouch, ready to pounce on him just before she caught herself. He was relieved to see her hands heal, the charred skin flake and fall away to reveal smooth skin beneath.

"Let me be!" She cried.

"You can't keep hurting yourself!" He retorted. "In a few hours that will stop working and where will you be? Weak and almost insane from the pain."

She glared at him as she rose to her feet. "It is my choice!"

"A choice that is destroying you." He countered ruthlessly. "You nearly lost control Hermione. What would happen if you transformed into a lioness? Would you have enough mind and control to keep from attacking me?"

She recoiled from that scenario. Deep inside she knew the answer. "No."

"Then stop fighting it."

She shook her head. "I can't. I can't do this to you."

Bruce stared hard. "I am willing. You are not forcing me into doing anything."

She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. "No. I am supposed to keep you safe. You need to go back to your old life without any complications. We do not know each other; we will never see each other again if we both survive this."

He considered her words and spoke more gently. "Hermione, you are not responsible for my safety."

She shook her head. "This is not your world. You did not ask for any of this. You have to be protected until you get back home."

He looked at her hard before deciding to try a different angle. "You cannot protect me if you go insane. We have to survive this first for complications to become an issue."

She stared at him but did not say anything. He could see it in her eyes; she was going to persist in her path. Unless he did something. He looked around and his eyes fell on the copper bath. Both of them had avoided the item unwilling to take a chance of becoming contaminated while disposing of the water. Without hesitation, he thrust his hand into the clear liquid glowing with faint gold traces.

She cried out in protest just as he pulled out his hand, slick and wet from the water and the Brew. He turned to look at her challengingly.

"There. Now we both risk going insane if you don't give in. What is it going to be?"

She glared at him, irate, furious at his high-handed actions. After tense seconds, she sliced at the fabrics wrapped around her. They fell into a pool around her feet leaving her in the skimpy green-black outfit, the midriff baring tank top and the short sarong skirt.

"This is your fault." She growled.

"This is my choice." He countered mildly. Then he smiled teasingly. "Don't worry; I'll make it good for you." He held out a hand and his expression became gentler. "I won't hurt you Hermione."

She hesitated before stepping closer to him. Then she reached out and put her hand in his.

Slowly he drew her close with just that hand and bent to kiss her.

And then he felt it. The sense of rightness, of certainty, of welcome. At that moment Bruce Wayne was certain he would never meet another who would make him feel as she did. He wasn't sure if it was the Brew, their sexual chemistry, or the Fates. It just Was.

...ooOoo...

Hermione stirred and came to life wrapped in cool sheets and pressed against a hard, lean form, her head resting on his shoulder, her arm stretched across a broad muscular chest. She felt strong, callused fingers stroking her skin, a soothing action that did stir fresh desire.

Every muscle in her body ached. Bruce had not been content with the standard positions or just one orgasm. He had pushed and demanded everything from her. The past two days had been filled with sex, sex, and more sex in positions and places she had never imagined. The things he could do… Hermione was certain he had a great deal of practice to be so skilled. Then suddenly she realized something and stiffened.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"A little late to be asking me but no I don't. I haven't been in a serious relationship for a few years now."

He felt her relax. "I'm sorry I didn't ask before. But I didn't... I still don't want to know. I don't want to know the names of those who will miss and mourn you. If I do I will need to go to them and give them closure, something the Statute of Secrecy will not allow."

Bruce considered the information and accepted the logic.

"Have you thought of anything new?" He asked her softly.

"Nothing new. Just that we have to get out of here as soon as possible. If I have conceived, they will definitely have no purpose in keeping you alive. Except as a way to control me."

He smiled faintly. "Then why don't you continue to give that impression?"

She giggled. "I think I will. Besides, they know I have nothing to lose. Now I have more freedom to move against them."

"Why do you say that?"

She hesitated and lifted her head so he could clearly see the faint symbols etched in curving lines across and down the left side of her face glitter in the low light. He did not recognize the language or country of origin. Her fingers lightly danced across the markings before she began speaking.

"I'm not sure if you remember, but after I was drenched in the Brew I declared Blood Feud against Malfoy and everyone I recognized here. It is Old Magicks. As long as the Markings remain, the Blood Feud is active and valid. I can walk into the Ministry and kill them in front of a dozen witnesses and no one can do anything. Because my Cause has been sanctioned by the Old Powers, by magick. They know I am more dangerous now. I can call for allies to join my cause and share my immunity and they have made many enemies. Their allies will not be willing to risk being dragged into Blood Feud. In the past, whole families and lineages were lost to Feuds when both sides involved slaughtered each other into extinction.

"I have committed myself, my children, and my grandchildren to Feud. As long as there exists someone with the blood and the name, the Feud lives. In the past, whole families were killed to eliminate the bloodline but I think I'll try a different way. The sons will be cursed to only have daughters. Only daughters who marry into the other lines can have sons. Anyone with the blood who uses the family name while the Feud lives they will be subject to the same penalties. Of course if they are guilty of other serious crimes and escapees from justice I will either sterilize them outright or kill them." Her eyes were hard. "I will take great pleasure in killing the adult Malfoy men. Both of them."

Bruce stared down at her. "Hermione… You are being judge jury and executioner. It is not legal or right to take the law into your own hands."

"In your world perhaps. But in mine there is no justice, not any more. Nothing but what we make." She turned over to bury her head in the pillow. "I don't expect you to understand or accept. It is just another way how we are too different."

Bruce reached out. "Do you enjoy this? Do you want to do this?"

She turned to look at him with teary eyes. "No. And no. But I see no other choice. Witches and wizards like the Parkinsons and Malfoys have gotten away with this for centuries and they will continue to keep doing so." Her expression hardened. "The wizarding world is almost feudal, the reverence for name and lineage is tremendous. Only the threat to destroy both will give me the leverage I need to level the playing field." She touched her cheeks. "With a sanctioned Blood Feud they cannot play their usual games."

Bruce absorbed her words. "What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I have to."

Bruce brushed his lips against her temple. What could he say to dissuade her? Did he have any right to, given how Lucius Malfoy had violated the both of them? Besides there were probably other subtle issues he was not aware of. And didn't Batman act in a similar fashion? Ignoring the rule and procedure of law to get at the guilty? Those who could not be touched by the regular law enforcement agents?

Suddenly he desperately wanted to forget. He wanted to forget about the threat just outside the stone walls. All he knew was that that none of his past love interests had ever even approached making him feel as whole as she did in her arms. His touch became firmer, more intimate. She gasped and writhed against him as his fingers slipped home.

"Bruce!"

He captured her lips with his, intent on driving reason out of their minds.

...ooOoo...

Bruce and Hermione stared grimly at the hour glasses above the door. The sand was running out of the fifth and last one. She glanced at him.

"Last chance to back out Bruce."

"Not taking it." He retorted.

She nodded, satisfied and waited. Their long, intense sex marathon was followed by an open planning session. Both decided there was no purpose in waiting but the only question was when and where, and the scale and scope of tactics.

Hermione was not willing to delay, there was no guarantee their captors would continue to restrain themselves to verbal abuse against Bruce. If he were weakened, it would definitely reduce their chances of escape. So they had to make their stand.

---

Lucius Malfoy watched horrified as the mudblood bitch nearly decapitated Parkinson and McNair without hesitation. Then she cut the throats of Yaxley Jr and Smith who had been knocked out by the Muggle and dragged over to her. They had not given any hint of their plans until the very last second. And then she used the blood to trace runes on the stone. Half his men were trapped on the wrong side of the blood wards. Moreover, the Muggle was definitely a trained fighter of some sort. He moved with brutal grace, snapping wands and breaking bones in-between paralysing, disabling strikes. Each knocked out body was tossed over to Granger who promptly slit their throats and used their life energies to fuel the blood wards. Every time he or someone on this side of the wards cast spells the couple would merely move out of the way. The spelled stones of the ritual chamber would absorb the stray energy blasts.

"Get those wards down!" He snarled.

Theodore Nott stared at the elder Malfoy. "That is going to take time."

Malfoy glared at the couple. "We have time. Get those wards down. Kill the Muggle as soon as you get through." And then he turned and stalked away.

---

Bruce felt a little sick. He had never killed except in the direst defence of his life as Batman. Now he was clearly an accomplice. As though sensing his guilt Hermione spoke in soft low tones. As she named each man and women they had killed, she added details about their tainted lineage, past crimes, and most recent sins. All of which had been forgiven after heavy bribes, assassinated or memory wiped witnesses, or dismissed on the slimmest of technicalities. And then she did the same for other faces she had seen and recognized; the families upon whom she had called Blood Feud.

Her eyes were very solemn. "I know it doesn't erase what we did but in the Cosmic Scales we were merely the instruments of justice. They will never pay. Not as long as the Wizengamot and current structure still stand."

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait."

"How long will the wards hold?"

She chewed on her lower lip and did some mental calculations. "Fifteen hours. I'm going to set up new layers to trap and funnel them away from the door. It will control how many we have to fight. With some careful planning, we could trap them on this side while we get out. Then all we'll have to worry about is anyone between us and the outside walls."

---

Hermione had been pessimistic. The wards held out for twenty hours. Each delay had enraged their captors and tormentors. By now, most were foaming out of control. Including Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione had been steeling herself for all out combat when the shrill noise of a banshee wail sounded.

"What is it?" Malfoy snarled.

Nott burst into the room. "Potter is here. He has many of the old DA crowd with him. Only a few are wearing Auror robes. We have to get out!"

Malfoy immediately objected. "NO! We won't get a second chance!" He glowered at the duo taking down the wards. "Break them! NOW!"

The older one frowned. "It will bring the entire structure down on us." He warned.

"Let it happen. With any luck it will kill Potter and his associates."

Hermione's eyes widened. She closed her eyes and focused. Silvery mist burst from her fingertips and coalesced into an oversized otter.

"Go!" She ordered the insubstantial creature.

And then it darted away, through the men and solid walls.

"What is that?" Bruce breathed out.

"Patronus. Can be used as messengers. I didn't try before because there has to be someone close by to direct it to." She explained.

"BREAK IT!" Malfoy roared. "BEFORE POTTER GETS HERE!"

In fifty seconds, cracks appeared in the stones around the glowing red wards. Then they crumbled into dust and the wards came down.

And then the air was filled with the colours of various spell energies.

"Keep fighting." Hermione shouted. "Harry is almost here!"

And they did. They were too close to freedom to give up. And then it happened.

It was to be expected. Close quarter combat, with way too many enemies, even with judicious use of barricades, some of the spells would have to make contact. It was just chance that Malfoy's Crucio spell hit Bruce.

He collapsed, every muscle spasming, nerves feeling as though they were put through the blender then set on fire. It was agony at its worst. Distantly Bruce understood why it was so easy to break under just twenty minutes of this torture spell. It was truly remarkable Hermione survived an hour with her mind intact.

And then he heard unknown voices shout. New faces and forms bursting in and attacking their former captors. Potter and the DA crowd. Hermione's Harry. He sincerely hoped they had a good medic with them just as his vision began fading.

"Bruce!"

---

When he came to, he was still in the same Chamber, though now there were many other strangers around and the sneering torturers were knocked out and trussed up like turkeys before being levitated out of the Chamber. A serious looking woman with olive skin and dark eyes and hair was bending over him. He could still feel his nerves firing erratically, sending agony through all parts of him. Hermione was there, her teary face bending over him, her voice distant and indistinct. Her lightest touch was agony and the Indian witch knew it because she grabbed Hermione's hands and kept them away.

"Don't touch him. His nerves are too sensitized. How long?"

"I don't know Padma." Hermione sobbed. "It was Malfoy."

"Guess Hermione!"

"Three minutes? They stopped me from getting to Bruce right away. I had to break Bulstrode's neck and nearly disembowelled Theodore Nott."

Padma whistled low in appreciation. "Wow. I never thought anyone could break Bulstrode's neck. It is so thick!"

"Padma!"

"Sorry Mia." But she did not sound apologetic. "I'm not sure about your friend here. Most Muggles don't last a minute under Cruciatus. Our magical cores protect us quite a bit from the effects."

"Still. Here." His tongue felt thick, his words were slurred.

Padma was impressed. "Wow. Just hang in there Bruce. If you can still think you are definitely in better shape than most others." She turned around. "Harry! We need to get him to St. Mungos!"

"NO!" Hermione screamed in protest. "They kidnapped me from there! I had an appointment with Steinburg about Neville's parents."

Bruce flinched and nearly blacked out as fresh pain bloomed in his back.

A not too tall lanky looking young man appeared. He was dressed in blue jeans and a flannel shirt under open dark grey robes. His black hair was messy, sticking up at odd angles. His eyes were very green behind round gold-rimmed lenses.

"Hermione, we can't treat him properly. The Ministry regulations control the ingredients needed to make anti-Cruciatus treatments. No apothecary will sell it without a license."

"I know, Harry!" Hermione snapped sharply before sagging. "Of course it doesn't stop the Regulations and Licensing departments from issuing unrestricted permits for their generous pureblood patrons."

"I can ask Kingsley but it will simply be an excuse for his opponents to push him out." Harry pointed out delicately.

"We need to go to Hogwarts. Madame Pomfrey might be able to help us."

"No. Poppy was reprimanded two months back." Padma reported grimly. "She is bound to report all injuries she treats for the next four months. Narcissa Malfoy and Cynthia Greengrass sit on the Healers' Board of Review.

Padma produced a small capsule that she burst and dissipated into a mist in Bruce's face. The pain quickly eased and Bruce felt very tired though he struggled to keep from falling asleep. He needed more information.

"That should keep him under for three hours. Harry, he needs to be treated and obliviated as soon as possible." Padma warned softly.

Harry hissed. "They've cut off most of our local options."

"France?" Hermione suggested hopefully. "Fleur's family could help."

"And will be the first place they'll look."

Hermione carefully pushed his hair back without touching skin. "Then where?"

"Ireland. Or Norway. Luna has contacts in Sweden as well."

Padma nodded briskly. "I'll try to contact Parvati and Luna." Then she moved away.

Bruce struggled to focus on Hermione's conversation with Harry.

"Hermione, do you know why you were kidnapped?"

"A ritual. What else?"

Harry's green eyes sharpened as he crouched next to Bruce and spoke in lower tones.

"Ritual? Resurrection Ritual?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure. There was this green mist that came when Malfoy burned Something. It was like a ghost, but nothing like what I've seen before. It said Bruce and I were acceptable and then Malfoy doused me in Aphrodite's Brew."

Harry stilled. "What is Aphrodite's Brew?"

Hermione blinked back tears. "Fertility and lust potion. And then they locked me in this room with Bruce."

Harry stilled. "Did he--?"

"NO!" Then in a lower voice. "He did not attack me. He was not doused in the Brew." She hesitated. "I nearly attacked him a few times. I never realized one could be driven insane by denied lust."

Harry smiled. "Hermione, every teenage boy knows that. That's why teenage boys are excused when they do and say stupid things."

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Well, I never felt anything like it before." She hesitated. "I did not want to give in so I started hurting myself. To focus on a different hurt. Bruce stopped me when I put my hands in the fire." Green eyes widened as he took said appendages and examined them. "My magic was building from the Brew. All the wounds and cuts healed in seconds. It had to go somewhere and it had nowhere. It felt like I was burning alive."

"You look sort of fine now so what happened?" Harry asked softly as he placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She was wearing a borrowed black robe over the green-black outfit.

"Bruce said I was driving myself crazy by denying myself. He said that he could not stand by and watch me destroy myself." She blushed like crazy.

Green eyes widened. "You mean… You and he… For real?" Harry stuttered. Then he too blushed hotly. "Don't give me any details. Please." He shuddered. Then he realized something. "Hermione, are you pregnant?"

"I don't know for sure." She confessed. "But I think so."

"Padma!" Harry called out loudly.

The Indian-born witch hurried over. "What?"

Harry carefully helped Hermione to stand.

"Hermione might be pregnant."

Padma frowned and glared. "Did they--?"

"No!" Hermione hissed. "They doused me with Aphrodite's Brew and locked me up with Bruce."

Padma blinked. "They used Aphrodite's Brew?" She whistled softly. "Wow! They must have been desperate for you to conceive." She cast a spell at Hermione's waist that glowed green. "Well, you are definitely pregnant."

"You're pregnant?!?" A baritone screamed in horrified, high-pitched tones.

All three turned to the red-head in rust coloured robes. Hermione paled.

"Hello Ron." She spoke lightly, edging away from him.

"I didn't know you were seeing anyone!" Ron glowered.

Hermione glared. "I'm not."

Ron frowned. "You don't have one-night-stands." Then the light dawned. "They raped you? I'll kill them."

Hermione laughed, a short humourless sound. "No. I wasn't raped."

That confused him. "Then how? Who?"

Hermione glared. "That is none of your business."

Ron scowled. "I think I have a right to know. You are my girl."

"Ron, we broke up years ago!" Hermione snarled.

Ron frowned slightly. "Then who?" His eyes fell on Bruce who was flickering in and out of consciousness. "Him?" His tone was incredulous and derisive all at once.

Hermione leaned over Bruce defensively. "It is none of your concern Ron!" She snarled. "You are just a friend and most days you aren't even that!"

Ron sneered. "So you wouldn't open your legs for any wizard but you opened them for the first Muggle you were locked up with?"

Hermione gasped. Ron flew back with a bloody nose. Harry raised a clenched fist.

"Leave it, Ron." Harry ordered in hard tones. "They were drugged with lust potions."

Ron glared back sullenly. "She didn't break under crucio but she broke under a lust potion?" He snorted. "Figures. Should have tried that."

Hermione gasped then her eyes narrowed. "Go away Ronald Weasley. Go away before I declare a Blood Feud."

He looked more wary. "You wouldn't." But he clearly was not certain.

Hermione brushed her hand over her hair, drawing the loose tresses back. The gold and silver runes shimmered on her skin over her cheek and temple.

"Sanctioned blood feud." She spoke softly. "Away with thee Ronald Weasley. Thee has no place amongst my circle, we are not friends or allies so away with thee."

Ron backed away, nearly stumbling over broken debris before turning and fleeing.

Padma brushed her fingertips over the small glyphs. "They answered you."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. Three generations blood feud against those marked. I have some ideas on how to act but I am definitely looking for allies."

Padma nodded. "My mother's cousin was killed in the Second War. My eldest uncle and his family were killed in the First. I have to talk to my father but I believe he will agree. The Patils will stand by you." Then her eyes became shrewder. "But forget of the feud for now. Are you going to keep the child?"

"I don't know." Hermione admitted.

"You have to make the decision. "Padma warned. "The inter-utero magical signature is already very strong. If you wait too long it will be too late. But whatever you choose set up an appointment with my private practice."

Hermione blinked and nodded. Padma nodded, satisfied by whatever she saw in Hermione's expression. "Okay. I'll be outside looking after the prisoners and our wounded. Do you want me to contact anyone? Ginny? Minerva?"

Hermione blinked and choked back a teary sob. "I want my mother. I want to talk with Tonks. I want Luna." She burst into tears.

Padma stroked the messy curls. "Oh Hermione! I can't help with the first two but I'll definitely owl Luna. I'm certain she'll get back as soon as she hears."

The Indian witch made a significant face to Harry who nodded and wrapped his arms around Hermione to draw her close. Satisfied, the dusky skinned witch left to give them more privacy.

Harry patted his best friend and did not say anything as he waited for her sobs to become soft hiccups.

"Hermione, whatever you choose I will support you. If you want to keep the baby please put me on the list for godfather."

Hermione choked in a laugh. "Oh Harry!"

"Hey, I'm serious. I'll try to be a better god-father than Sirius. If you die, I will definitely not run off in a hare-brained scheme to avenge your death and get arrested for killing the bastard. I'll hire assassins to do that for me." He joked.

"Shhh." She giggled. "Thank you."

"Is there anything that you want Hermione? I swear I will do my best to give it to you."

Hermione stiffened and pulled away to look her best friend in the face. "Are you certain, Harry? I have just declared Blood Feud against some of the most prominent families in wizarding Britain."

His green eyes were steady. "You are my best friend, Hermione. You stood by me when everyone else abandoned me. And Blood Feud? Frankly, I welcome the chance to go up against those like the Malfoys without the bloody Ministry and Order breathing down my neck, trying to control me. Bellatrix Black tortured you. Her sister stood by and watched; Narcissa only acted at the last second to save her family and her own skin. I gave Draco and Lucius a second chance and look at what they've done! They are up to their old tricks. I'm done with second chances for their kind."

"So you will support me."

"Yes." Harry's voice was very steady. "They made both of us orphans and the last of our families. We've given the bigots more than enough chances to change and play fair. They don't want to change. The only option we have is to cut them down. With a Blood Feud it will be completely legal."

"Yes." Hermione whispered.

Harry reached out and grabbed her wrist. "I Harold James Potter, pledge the support of House Potter and House Black to Hermione Jane Granger for the duration of her sanctioned Blood Feud." A glow surrounded their wrists before dimming slightly. "They killed my parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Cedric," his voice caught on a sob. "They killed so many and still they walk free. There is no justice from Ministry law."

A short haired blonde woman placed her hand on top of theirs and spoke. "I Susan Elizabeth Bones, pledge the support of House Bones to Hermione Jane Granger for the duration of her sanctioned Blood Feud." A glow surrounded her. "They killed my family in the First War Hermione. They killed Auntie, my only surviving relative." She stifled a sob.

An older red-headed man with only one ear and haunted eyes touched Hermiones shoulder. "I George Weasley pledge my support to Hermione Granger in her Blood Feud against House Malfoy and associates." A glow surrounded his hand. "They killed my twin Hermione. They killed part of me, the laughter and life. I don't care what my parents say. Whatever you need, I will get it for you. Charlie and Bill will agree with me."

One by one men and women young and old made their pledges. With each vow the glow around Hermione and Harry grew until the light illuminated the room.

Hermione smiled brilliantly. "Thank you. I vow I will not betray the trust you have placed in me. Malfoy and his kind will pay. This I vow."

The light coalesced into thick heavy ropes that wrapped around her wrists. When they faded, everyone could see the engraved torc style golden bracelets on each wrist.

"Witnessed." A chorus of unearthly voices filled the room.

Hermione looked around with a very familiar steely expression.

"We are going to be very busy over the next few weeks. The first thing will be setting up a secure communication net. Something similar to the Protean galleons we used in DA. Send anyone interested to George. He'll set up meetings for me to take their pledges. But for now we have to get out of here. The building is dangerously unstable. Susan, collect the water from the copper tub. It is diluted Aphrodite's Brew, we might be able to recover some of it. The rest of you do the usual search for records and interesting toys but be ready to portkey out; groups of three only. Harry, help Padma and me to move Bruce. We'll take him to the Old Hangout. I have a few contacts who might be able to help me with the anti-Crutiatus ingredients."

And with that Bruce blacked out completely.

...ooOoo...

When Bruce came to, he was in an unfamiliar room. It was panelled in wood, dark and quiet. The bed was a four-poster with no hangings, the sheets were pure cotton.

His body was still on fire, every muscle screaming in agony. Just as he was about to try to roll over he heard Hermione speaking.

"Harry, what do you think I should do?"

Bruce strained. He could see Hermione and Harry in the light from the fireplace. Harry was dressed in just faded blue jeans and a black tee shirt. Hermione also was dressed in olive khakis and a cream turtleneck top. The firelight reflected off the heavy gold bands around her wrists. Both wore fluffy house slippers instead of shoes.

"It is not for me to decide for you."

"Just tell me."

"I would terminate." Harry's response was stark.

Bruce felt a stab of fear he had never felt before, fear for a child he had never wanted, never planned, a child conceived with a woman who belonged to a world he knew nothing about, a world he didn't like from what he'd seen and heard. He did a horrible job with Dick and was already having problems with Tim. Did he really want to raise a child of his own and hear him or her scream 'I hate you'?

"Neither of you deserve this complication, Hermione. It is a burden and a responsibility you did not ask for. You don't know him and he doesn't know you. He is going to be obliviated and sent back to his life. If you keep the baby, what are you going to tell the kid about daddy? That you did not tell him he was going to be a father? That you never had a real relationship or planned on having a child? That he could never know because he is a Muggle who was kidnapped by pureblood terrorists and later rescued and obliviated to keep the Statute of Secrecy?"

"Harry!"

"But it is true. Your child will want answers. Do you know what you are going to tell him?"

"I don't want to obliviate Bruce. He isn't like your relatives."

"You don't know that, Hermione. He was in a very stressful situation and dependent upon you. When he gets back to his usual life he will probably break down in a panic when he realises just how close he came to dying. And then he will probably start accusing you of being responsible for everything gone wrong in the world."

She choked on a sob. "We could try!"

"We can't! He is a civilian and a Muggle! Completely defenceless against anyone wishing to hurt you. If you plan to act upon your Feud, you cannot risk having dependents, children or lovers. If you have the baby, there is the risk of kidnapping. If even one attempt succeeds, Merlin knows what they will do to the kid." Harry sighed deeply. "I understand how you feel Hermione. I felt the same way when we left Ginny behind in Seventh year. But we can't risk any hostages to fate."

"I could give up the baby." Hermione whispered. "Find a good family in the non-magical world. He or She would be safe for at least a few years."

"You're counting on the safety in ignorance factor." Harry countered. "It didn't work for your parents, or mine, and it nearly didn't for me. Your parents died because they didn't know to be afraid. Mine trusted the wrong ones and were betrayed. The Dursleys nearly killed me in their magiphobia thanks to Dumbledore's machinations. I didn't know enough to be afraid when I first entered Hogwarts and nearly died each year for it." Then he smiled. "Besides, you aren't the type to have a child and give it up. I know you Hermione; you'd fight to keep your baby with you."

Fresh tears filled her eyes. "I hate this." Her clenched fist hit his chest. "I hate this!" She sobbed. "I hate this!" She broke down and soaked his tee shirt with her tears.

Harry did not say anything. He simply rocked her against him. "He does not belong in our world. Let him return home safe and whole. If he remembers, he will live the rest of his life with the fear and trauma of the experience. Each day he will wake up worrying about the possibility of stumbling into the wizarding world, meeting a Dark Arts practitioner, one that would destroy his world again. Who would want to remember such a terrible experience, Hermione? Just let him go."

"Erasing memories is not the cure. It is a haphazard band-aid that is over used."

"Yes. But until we have a better procedure on how to handle situations like these what can we do? Can we risk witch-hunts and corporate experimentation? How can we stress the importance of keeping secrets? How can we be certain we will not be betrayed for money, fame, or envy?"

Hermione shuddered. "We need counsellors. Proper university trained psychiatrists and social workers. People who can work in both worlds, not people like Arthur, but more like Remus, Half-bloods or Muggleborn. Minerva could definitely use them in her work with parents as well. They could do interviews and observe before making a recommendation on whether to obliviate or not."

There was a knock at the door before it opened to reveal Padma.

"Where do you want to do this?"

Hermione hesitated. "Here will be best I suppose."

Padma nodded briskly and entered the room carrying a black bag before closing the door behind her. She walked with firm steps towards the bed and opened her bag to remove a wooden box from it. Carefully she set out several small chunks of crystal around the bed.

"Are you sure you want to do this Hermione? Harry would be an acceptable substitute."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I want to do this."

And then she tugged her top over her head to reveal the black sports bra she wore underneath it. After tossing it on a chair, she stepped out of her slippers and slipped off her slacks to reveal black and blue bike shorts. A few quick strides and she was standing next to the bed, stripping the cotton quilt down to reveal a powerfully built form clad only in black boxers. Carefully she sat on the bed and moved next to him.

"Slowly. His nerves are still on fire. His brain may not be processing the signals but the nerve tissue damage is still occurring." Padma warned.

"I know Padma. I helped develop the triage treatment."

Padma looked sheepish. "I know. It is too bad St Mungos refuses to use it."

Hermione laughed humourlessly. "They would never accept something as revolutionary as a Cruciatus treatment based on scientific principles that was developed by an unlicensed Muggleborn. That would mean decades of Pureblood experts were wrong and idiots."

"I'm sorry Hermione."

"For what Padma?" Hermione sounded surprised.

"Poppy told me the Healing Board denied your application for Apprenticeship."

"It is not your fault Padma." Then Hermione sighed. "I never realized it myself until my application was denied. All Healers are half-bloods at the minimum."

Harry stirred. "Is that why you went to Australia?"

"Yes. Their Healing Apprenticeships are just as good and it combined interesting aspects of Native and Oriental treatments. I did not complete it of course. Making vows to a group of strangers makes me leery."

Harry gave a half-smile. "So you have the knowledge and skills, just not the license."

"Exactly. If a few like Neville hire me as a consultant, I see no problem. I merely offer advice and treatment options. It is up to them to investigate and implement with their regular Healers." Hermione answered smugly. Then her voice firmed. "Stats."

Padma cast a series of spells and recited the results.

Hermione nodded as she moved closer to Bruce. "Acceptable. You may wish to recast the second part since we don't have a full circle to amplify."

Padma blinked then nodded.

The first was cast a soft green glow that filled the area between the crystals and sank upon the two lying on the bed.

Bruce could feel the numbness fading, the pain increasing rapidly. His muscles started spasming in reflexive protest.

Hermione's face looked down upon him with concern as she used both hands to hold his face still, and meet his eyes directly. Without looking away, she spoke.

"Three times."

Padma cast the second part. Lightening darted from her wand tip and danced into the crystal closest before jumping into the one next to it, then the next, then the next, and so on until the couple were surrounded in a circle of lightening.

"Just calm down Bruce. You are going to be just fine. This I vow."

And then a soft gold and silver light emerged from her and entered him.

Bruce nearly blacked out from the euphoria of the sensation. It was as if she was within him, in his blood and soul. Frantically he recoiled. She could not find out his secrets. But she wasn't looking for them. She was more interested in the physical condition of his body, not his mental state.

Then it happened again. This time she was in his mind, soothing the recent memories and the raw firing synapses. He struggled to keep his sense of self, to remain aware just in case she saw something she shouldn't.

Her voice echoed in his soul. "I am so sorry for all that happened to you. I wish… But I cannot risk your life and health by dragging you into my world. It would be unforgivable with another war brewing. But I swear the ones responsible will pay."

And then it happened once more. This time Bruce blacked out.

...ooOoo...

TBC…


	4. Startling Revelations

Summary: The Justice League investigates and starts finding various threads leading to wizarding society. Including Hermione Granger.

AN: This is where the Prelude (first chapter) left off.

* * *

**...ooO Startling Revelations Ooo...**

Batman's face was stony and pale as he came to. He looked into the concerned faces of his comrades but his eyes turned to the Martian Hunter.

"Did you see it?"

Jonzz nodded. "Most of it. I do not see any need to reveal all the details. After all it is a private matter."

Batman inhaled deeply and tried to focus, but he couldn't. All he could think of was the innocence they had created in the midst of malice. Given all he'd heard, he could not even be angry with Hermione if she had terminated. She was going to organize and lead a war faction against wand-using version of Nazis, a sanctioned feud. The strain of such a responsibility was not at all compatible with pregnancy and motherhood.

A war. A hidden war.

He stared looked around at the others who were entering the medbay. "There is a war brewing in Britain. A magical war."

Everyone stiffened.

"I'll get Zatanna." Flash offered and zipped off.

"Do you have any intel?" Green Lantern inquired.

Batman nodded. "Lots. How accurate and complete is something else altogether. We'll need to fill in a lot of the blanks from other sources."

"Let's go to a conference room." Wonder Woman suggested. "After Batman eats something, he can join us in an hour."

Batman considered the offer and nodded. "See what you can pull up on these names. Hermione Granger. Harry Potter. Lucius Malfoy." And then he continued to rattle off a list of names he remembered. "They should all be residents of U.K."

---

One hour later, when he joined them in the conference room, he could see they were clearly stumped.

"What did you find?" He asked as he slid into his usual chair.

"Nothing in some cases." Superman was bemused. "In others the records end when they turn eleven."

Batman nodded. "That fits. What did you find?"

Wonder Woman tapped at her console. "The usual records: schooling, health, etc. for Hermione Jane Granger until she turned eleven when everything stopped. The same for Harold James Potter. Only in his case, there were no records for the first year of life. His mother Lily Evans had the usual records until she turned eleven and vanished from the databases. There are no records of her marriage to James Potter who apparently has almost no history at all. There are no records of Lily Evans Potter visiting any U.K. hospital for pre-natal check-ups or giving birth. No post-natal check-ups or vaccinations either, until after he turned a year old and was under the custody of his maternal aunt, Petunia Dursley. The death certificates issued for Lily and James Potter indicate both died in a car accident though both never had a driver's license and none of the details fit a car accident report in the police databases. There are gaps all over the place! According to the files, Granger and Potter should be twenty-seven and twenty-six respectively but there are no traces of them anywhere! No tax, banking, investments, credit, employment, or medical records. Anywhere. And the other names you mentioned? Nothing. It is like Hermione Granger and Harold Potter died when they turned eleven!"

"Did you say Harry Potter?"

Everyone turned to the doorway. Zatanna Zatarra and Dr. Fate had just joined them.

Batman's eyes narrowed. "You know about them." He growled.

Zatanna sighed. "I am geas bound not to speak about them to Anyone. But I can introduce you to someone who can. It will take some time for him to get back to me because higher-ups will need to okay any decision made."

Superman frowned. "What are you talking about? Who is 'them'?"

Batman smiled sardonically. "'Them' is an entire society of wand-using mages that practically live next to us, but hidden. A society filled with rampant prejudice and violence that has a tendency to erase all evidence of it by wiping the memories of anyone who stumbles onto it. They are organized and their governments, called Ministries, are sort-of recognized by the non-magical governments though they act completely independent. Every few decades a Dark Lord rises and goes on a killing spree. Just like he did in the U.K. thirty years, then ten years ago."

Eyes widened in recognition. "No one explained why the wave of terrorist actions in the early eighties stopped. Or why the violence in the nineties began and stopped." Superman mused.

Batman's thin lips quirked in a faint smile. "I don't know about the first one but the one in the nineties was stopped by Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

Eyes widened.

"Hera save us. They must have been just teenagers!" Wonder Woman breathed.

"Yes. I don't know the full details but it made them both very disliked by those comfortable with status quo. Now the violence is brewing again and threatening to spill over into our world. Only this time Granger and Potter have decided to raise the stakes and take the war to the Nazi-sympathizers." He tapped his console. "Part of this is personal. They kidnapped Bruce Wayne for one of their schemes. But it is only time before they try for other high-profile targets."

He looked around the table and saw the nods of agreement.

"So here is the plan…"

...ooOoo...

Batman stared at the myriad mass of data being displayed on the over-sized monitors of the supercomputer in the Cave. The Justice League was progressing nicely in their investigations of the wizarding society but Batman was desperate to locate Hermione. Desperate enough to involve his protégé, Robin.

Tim Drake was a mastermind at electronics. When given his most recent assignment, he had stilled his curiosity and used various programs to extrapolate Hermione Granger from class photos before melding the data with the physical and psych profile Batman had built from his memory. Then he sent several bots to scan and search images recorded from every security system he could access and a few others.

It generated several hits over the following four months. Most of the hits turned out to be dead ends. Except for one in Inverness, Scotland.

The Dark Knight's attention was completely captured by the frame shot of a short female form swathed in a dark blue cloak with a mass of brown curls spilling down her back. She was walking up the steps to enter an older building with a discreet metal plate near the doorway. A.J. Watkins and Associates.

"What have you found out?" He spoke carefully as he pushed his cowl back.

"A.J. Watkins and Associates is a law firm. Very private and exclusive. They don't put all of their files on networked computers." Robin reported. "I managed to find one thing from one of the P.A.s day-planner on the common server. Hermione Granger is a personal client of Alexander Jason Watkins. She meets him at least once a month. The next meeting is next Thursday."

Batman inhaled deeply. "Make arrangements to have the next two weeks free. We are flying to Scotland."

Robin blinked. "Okay. Do you want me to bring anything in particular?"

"Heavy duty EMP hardened gear for full audio-video surveillance. We are going to be at that meeting."

...ooOoo...

Diana adjusted her ear-piece as she watched Batman and Robin set up the electronic surveillance in the office space leased for one month by an NGO who never realized their name was being used by Batman. She had been surprised when Batman asked Jonzz to complete his surveillance team. Probably because Jonnz knew more about the situation than the JLA. Batman was not much of a team player but now he was holding onto his cards much tighter than usual.

"Did you triple the redundancy?" Batman spoke softly, absently.

"Yes. But I don't see why. These babies are qualified for nuclear warfare." Robin patted the monitors giving four views of an unoccupied private office. "We can see and hear everything." He glanced at a different screen. One displaying a tap into a hallway security camera. "She's here! I didn't see any car stop to drop her off though."

"She wouldn't need it." Batman murmured. "They can teleport by mystic methods. They call it portkey."

The small form, completely enshrouded in her old-fashioned blue cloak, greeted the security guard politely before speaking to the smartly dressed receptionist who quickly stood up and walked around to escort her to A.J. Watkins office. It too was bugged.

---

"Is there anything you'd like Miss Granger? Mr. Watkins is running a little late."

"Tea would be wonderful Anita. Rosehip. And any of those shortbreads from last time. You must tell me where you buy them."

"Oh, there is a bakery just around the corner. I can pick up a box for you before you leave. Bethany Timmins runs it; she is Michael Corner's aunt. I believe her youngest son is currently in his second year."

"Ravenclaw?"

"Actually, Hufflepuff, like my sister." Anita answered with a laugh.

Hermione smiled slowly. "Hufflepuff is a good House. Loyal and true."

Anita bowed her head. "Is there anything else you need?"

Hermione thought briefly. "George Weasley will be joining me today. Please show him in as soon as he arrives."

Anita nodded and left. A few minutes later, she returned with a tea tray, interrupting Hermione's perusal of the art prints.

"Sit down and relax Miss Granger. It is not good for you to stay on your feet when you don't need to." Anita scolded as she prepared a cup of tea. "One sugar and a splash of lemon. Just as you like it." Then the door opened and a much older man with thinning grey hair entered. He was dressed in a plain brown suit. "Mr. Watkins!"

"Hermione's Rosehip tea will be fine Anita. Two sugars."

Anita prepared the second cup and left the office, closing the door behind her.

"How are you feeling Hermione?"

"Headachy." Hermione replied honestly.

"Remove your cloak and sit down then. And get your feet up." A.J. Watkins sounded more like a father than a lawyer.

---

Bemused, the JLA watched as Hermione obeyed, undoing the clasps of her cloak down her front, then shrugging it off to reveal the leaf-green dress she wore underneath. It had three-quarter length sleeves, a small bodice with a deep neck and high empire waist trimmed in pale cream. The skirt was voluminous and full flowing past her knees to mid-calf. She wore ballet style slippers that laced up her calves with ribbons. Heavy gold bangles glinted at her wrists as she raised a hand to push back strands of hair behind one ear. As she turned, the surveillance team saw what made Anita and A.J. Watkins fuss over her. She was pregnant, more than five months along.

Batman inhaled sharply and leaned closer to study her features, the sweep of lashes, the curve of her cheek in profile, the faint Mona Lisa smile.

---

After eating a shortbread cookie and drinking half a cup of tea, she got down to business.

"I am ready to begin, Alex."

Alex Watkins nodded and produced a wand. Then swiftly he cast a spell that expanded in a bubble that blinded the video feed and shorted transmission for a few seconds before the system compensated.

"Is it secure?" Her tone became more brisk, clipped.

"As much as I can be certain of. I test my precautions against the latest generations of surveillance gear just last month. Of course the military will generally be a few generations ahead of the civilian market."

Hermione nodded, tapping her armrest. "Expected. If there are those using those systems on us, they already know about us. If they do, there is nothing we can really do about it. Besides, these precautions are for those who might be Imperioed or bribed or threatened."

The lawyer nodded in agreement. "I managed to find suitable foster homes for the last group of children you sent to me. One couple was willing to take in the Flint siblings. Baby Carrow and Baby McNair have been adopted. Both couples are Muggles with relatives who attended Hogwarts and Beaubaxtons. We have some interest in Toddler Malfoy. An American couple who attended Salem. They are visiting relatives in Scotland."

Hermione sipped her tea. "Good. I want Draco's son out of Europe. Away from the prejudice and hate and racism. He deserves a chance to grow up as a decent human being. Not fed bigotry along with his pudding. Daphne was neutral, but Astoria is as bigoted as they come. Even with Draco out of the picture she'll still ruin the boy." She took a bite from a cookie. "I'll ask Minerva to have his file sent to Salem. I don't want him in Europe until he forms an identity of his own."

The elderly gentleman eyed her shrewdly. "You are spending a lot of time and money giving the children of your enemies a good start in life."

"They are just children Alex. Evil is not born, it is taught, learned, imitated. Of course, if they step over the line I will come down on them like Nemesis herself." Then she produced a small box from a pocket. A tap of her wand expanded it. Deftly she opened the hidden catches and pulled out a wad of files and passed them to the lawyer. "These are the latest cases. The children are older, the bad habits are more ingrained in them. Right now Harry and Luna are keeping an eye on them in London. I was thinking of something more along the lines of Boot Camp. It might be necessary to break them before rebuilding them into less prejudiced thinking beings. I am willing to finance building or modifying such an enterprise. Outside of Europe of course. Canada by preference."

"I might have something in my files that might interest you. It might take me a while to find it thought." He warned.

"Feel free. If you see George Weasley, please send him in."

"All right. The closed files are in the right most pile." He added just before leaving the office.

Hermione picked up the top most file and began perusing it. Before she even finished two pages, a tall redhead with messy hair and a missing ear joined her.

He bent over her shoulder and brushed a kiss over her cheek. She smiled up at him.

"Hello George." She held up the plate of shortbread. "Cookie?"

"Don't mind if I do." George Weasley grabbed the treat and consumed it rapidly before repeating the process. He slowed down after his third to talk. "I just met with Zabini. He wants to have dinner with you."

Hermione smiled, slow and satisfied. "Perfect. He's interested."

"I don't know why you're interested in him." George grumbled.

"He is a Slytherin and a key player in the neutral factions. If he joins us, the rest will follow. The dark factions will begin to collapse since they are counting on that neutrality."

"But I don't understand why he's willing to talk with you. He completely blew Harry off."

"Harry is rather rude when dealing with Slytherins. It takes a deft touch, a woman's touch to deal with prideful wizards."

George eyed her sharply. "He wants to date you."

"He asked me out years ago." Hermione freely admitted.

"And if he asks you now?" George wanted to know.

Hermione blinked, taken aback by the line of thought. "I don't think he wants to date me. He is just interested in what I can give him."

"What?"

"Revenge."

George was intrigued. "Really? A Gryffindor Lioness aiding a Slytherin Snake in his quest for vengeance? My my, what is the world coming to."

Hermione blinked her eyes blandly. "I was already planning to break into the Vatican. I just thought Zabini would want in."

"Whatever for?"

"The Zabinis hates the Roman Catholic Church. They reneged on a contract a few centuries back. The Zabinis never forgot. My little trip will give him the chance to take what was promised to his ancestor. Of course if it humiliates the Church in the process it will not hurt."

"Oh really, dear Hermione? And why would the Church be in need of humility?"

"Three centuries back a clergyman stole Prewitt family treasures, claiming them to be holy relics. The fool didn't recognize they were merely enchanted creations. The Church never bothered to return them. If you lay your hands on them you would have definite cause to petition the Wizengamot to reopen the Prewitt seat. We can definitely use an ally."

George did not chase after the shiny bright distraction. "And what are You after?" He wanted to know.

"Oh, this had that. The Church has a nasty habit of claiming things that do not belong to them." Hermione replied evasively.

"No really. You wouldn't be planning a break-and-enter without a bloody good reason."

Hermione studied him hard. "Do you remember Umbridge? Her blood quills?"

George gave a low whistle. "Umbitch? What in Merlin's name does she have to do with stealing from the Pope?"

"In our fifth year she used Blood Quills to torture the students. All of us assumed she had gotten the Quills from the Ministry. We were wrong."

George leaned forward in his chair. "What do you mean?"

"Harry has been having some bad delayed reaction. There is some fresh muscle and nerve damage in his scarred hand. We thought the Murtlap essence healed it completely." Her voice turned grim. "We were wrong. There are still some spell energy traces that are becoming active again. He has noticed some growing stiffness. Harry was a Seeker, George; he has fast hands and he knows when his reaction time is slowing."

"Lee didn't say anything about his scarred hand stiffening to me." George mused. His eyes sharpened. "Has he seen a Healer?"

"Of course. And I examined him myself. Unfortunately there is very little on Blood Quill treatments, it is a minor piece of Dark Arts, not considered important for study. Back then, we didn't realize the Quills leave a lingering trace that requires a Master Healer to remove. If Minerva hadn't warned us not to, we would have gone to Poppy, but that's in the past. Right now, none of us are sure how the Blood Quill damage will progress. In the old case files Padma found it was always treated within a month. I don't want to go to a Dark Arts specialist; there is too much risk he or she will be allied to Malfoy."

"And what does Harry's detention torture sessions have to do with the Vatican?"

Hermione ignored his question and continued. "I didn't realize until I did some digging in the Ministry. They destroy Dark objects, especially something minor like Blood Quills. The Department of Mysteries is only interested in the really dangerous relics. So where did Umbridge get the Blood Quills? Three guesses on who created and sanctioned the use of Blood Quills?"

---

The eavesdropping JLA members felt a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomachs.

---

"The Vatican?" George spoke in a thin angry voice.

"Correct. It seems as though Dolores Umbridge has a second cousin, a fairly high-level clergyman in Rome. He will need to be taught a lesson."

George made an indistinct furious sound. "No wonder the bitch was so fond of her Ministry decrees and her title! High Inquisitor indeed."

Hermione ignored the quip. "We need the original notes on Blood Quill creation. If we can give the Vatican a black eye at the same time, so much the better."

George studied her hard before throwing his hands in the air.

"Oh what the heck! In for a penny in for a pound. I'm in."

She smiled. "Wonderful. I'll let Luna know."

She produced a small cloth covered volume and flipped the pages before pulling an old-fashioned fountain pen from the spine to write in it. She closed it and slipped the pen back into the holding place built into the spine. Then she put it away.

"What would happen if I tried to open that?" George inquired idly.

Hermione blinked mildly. "You'd lose your fingers."

George sat up straighter. "Serious?"

"Oh yes. I've charm-locked my personal communication journal to hex the fingers off anyone trying to snoop. And the fingers can't be reattached until the spell energies have dissipated. Since the Ministry in its infinite wisdom has made it illegal to purge magic they'll have to wait until it dissipates naturally, go to an unlicensed Healer, hire a curse breaker, or find someone who knows the counter key. Me."

"You don't pull your punches, do you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"I've pulled my punches long enough. Anyone I hit will get what is coming to them."

George nodded. "Do you think you can modify your charm for something less… disfiguring? Perhaps stinging hexes that increase in intensity and duration? There will definitely be a market for a product like this."

Hermione thought hard. "Thirty percent of the raw profit."

"WHAT!"

"Take it or leave it. I can just as easily go to Scriveners."

George grumbled but gave in. "I'll have to talk to Lee though. He does the books."

Hermione nodded and folded her hands over the mound over her lap.

George studied her intently. "Do you love him?"

Hermione was confused by the abrupt change in topic. "Love who?"

"The father." He jerked his chin at her pregnancy bulge.

She frowned. "Why do you want to know?"

"It is the only reason I can see why you are doing something as crazy as having the kid. So do you love him?"

Hermione shook her head. "Love him? No. I didn't know him well enough for that."

"Then why?"

Hermione visibly struggled to gather her thoughts before responding. "He is the best of the Muggles I've met. Not that I've met many since I got my letter. It is…" She stopped and corrected herself. "He was not afraid or angry of the dangerous situation he was in, or jealous and bigoted when he found out about magic. He was pragmatic and logical. He listened. He made me slow down, stop and reconsider." She hesitated. "He made me laugh. He made me feel beautiful, desirable, wanted." Her eyes glimmered. "When he looked he saw Hermione – not a brain, a fixer, a researcher, a lobbyist, a teacher – just Hermione. When I was with him, he did not expect me to make all the decisions; he fought me on quite a few. And I had to change my mind after listening to his logic."

"You sound like you are half-way in love with him." George observed.

Hermione snorted. "Don't be silly. Just a healthy dose of sexual chemistry and respect. At the core of it we have nothing in common."

"You don't know that." George pointed out mildy. "You may have a lot in common. You said it yourself, you don't know him."

"Yes, well I'm never going to see him again so it doesn't matter." Her words and expression indicated she considered the matter closed.

George nodded slowly. "Have you thought about what you are going to do after?"

"After what? After the Feud is done?"

"Yes."

"I'm trying not to think about it." Hermione confessed. "Making plans like that is asking for the Fates to laugh at you."

George grinned. "I wouldn't worry about it. With you and Harry leading us, we definitely won't lose. I always thought we would have won faster with fewer deaths if you led the Order after Dumbledore died." He smirked. "You plan for every possible contingency."

Hermione smiled faintly. "Oh? Is there a compliment in there?"

"Definitely. If Moody were alive and younger, he'd definitely ask you to marry him. Constant Vigilance indeed!"

She laughed. "I have every reason to be careful and plan." She stroked her mound. "I have a reason to fight and live." The gold bracelets at her wrist glinted. "I want my child to grow up in a better world. If I must I will set the world on fire and act as the Gods Hammer to reshape it." Her eyes glimmered. "I see no reason to relax and become complacent; not when the guilty are still free." Her eyes were cold gold. "When Malfoy and his ilk are broken and gone I will not stop. I will keep the pressure on the old families until they submit to change or die. I Will Break the Old Guard."

George looked at her with open admiration. "You know, you are utterly terrifying when you talk like that." It was more of a statement. "Ron was definitely right when he called you brilliant but scary."

She smiled, a more warm intimate expression. "And do I terrify you George?"

"Absolutely." George admitted without hesitation. "You are the only one who could make me and Fred stop pranking during the school year." He hesitated for a second before continuing. "Harry Potter is a hero because of prophecy. He was tapped for it and choose to accept the mantle and fight. You are a completely different sort of hero. You fight because you see injustice and evil and you cannot stand by and just watch. However, at the same time you accept everything, you don't ignore anything that could help or anyone willing to help. You've Grown into a Leader that few would dare to openly challenge.

"But at the same time all of us know you are Honourable, you will never abuse your followers or enemies. You will eliminate them, cleanly and quickly. All the Great Houses grudgingly recognize that." He sighed. "Ron was a fool to let you go. He is a fool for sulking over your decision to have the child. He is even more of a fool to fight you on the Blood Feud issue, saying it was not right. Hah, as if a mortal would know what is right in the Gods view of things! No, you are the best person to lead a Blood Feud. I would follow you into battle anywhere."

Hermione stared at him taken aback. Her lower lip trembled. "Thank you. For what you've just said, what you've done."

George sighed. "Sometimes I think we don't thank you enough Hermione. For all that you've done, what you are doing, what you are risking. Thank you." He leaned forward and brushed a kiss against her forehead. "Thank you sister of my heart, my spirit." Then he leaned away and picked up the plate of shortbread and thrust it under her nose. "Now eat! My nephew or niece will need the sugar."

Hermione made a face but complied. Before she was done with the cookie, the door opened and Alex Watkins returned.

"Good news, I've found the files. International properties that need a buyer. I've included lists of possible guardians. Some of the couples are not married but they have been together for a few years. Would that be a problem?"

"Not at all." Hermione demurred as she accepted the folders and slipped them into her box before shrinking it and putting it away. "Would it be possible to have an inspection?"

"Of course. Just let me know which and when and I'll make the arrangements."

Hermione nodded. "I'm certain you've made good choices Alex. I'll have a look at the files and let you know."

"I will wait for your message." Alex Watkins looked very amused. "Thank you for the journals. I had to hire new night staff two weeks ago. Three of them somehow misplaced their fingers and were unable to work."

Hermione blinked mildly. "Oh dear. They must have touched something they weren't supposed to. I do hope they will be more careful in the future." She murmured in mildly saccharine tones.

George looked faintly horrified. "Wait… You mean…"

The lawyer laughed. "Don't worry George, they were squibs. I gave them a second chance though. They are working in the Community Arena Hermione and Harry are funding. They won't find anything sensitive in that place."

Hermione reached out and brushed her lips against the elderly gentleman's cheek. "It was wonderful seeing you, Alex, but we have to leave now. I'll be in touch."

The lawyer nodded and helped Hermione don her cloak before walking the pair out.

---

The JLA eavesdroppers watched the curly haired brunette and the red-haired man on the regular security cameras. They took the elevator to the private parking level, but after stepping out of the elevator they were nowhere to be seen.

Robin frantically switched between all the cameras in the basement parking level. "I can't find any trace of them! It's like they vanished!"

"They probably teleported out." Diana speculated. Then she looked at the stony features of Batman. "What do you want to do now?"

"We need to keep looking for more information on the enclaves. The British government was not very helpful."

She nodded slowly. "What about the Vatican? Do we inform them of a possible heist?"

Batman tapped his fingers. "No." He decided. "It will give us some idea about how this faction of wand-users operate. Besides I doubt they are going to kill anyone."

Diana frowned but nodded. There was something about the situation that made her uneasy. Something about Batman's reactions.

"Batman, about Hermione Granger…" Diana trailed off feeling a bit uneasy.

He stilled. "What about her?"

"How well do you know her?"

Batman rose and stalked away without answering. Diana looked at Robin and Jonnz helplessly. Jonnz was sympathetic.

"He knows her quite well. But it is his story to tell."

...ooOoo...

Superman glanced around the Wand-User taskforce.

"All right. Anything to report?"

Green Lantern started. "There is a report of a break-in at the Vatican two nights ago. Several robes belonging to the higher clergy were hung outside the Sistine chapel and used to make a sign reading 'Guilty As Sin.' Nearly a dozen mid-level and higher clergy were stripped to their underwear, blindfolded and tethered to the lamp posts before being tarred and feathered. One particular clergyman, Paul Matthew Twitchley had to be shaved bald to remove all the tar clotted in his hair. No one saw, heard, or smelled anything. They were found by Swiss Guards on regular patrol duties. The press has been speculating on just What these clergymen are guilty of. In addition, unofficially of course, several of the more protected vaults were broken into the same night. None of my contacts have been able to determine if anything has gone missing."

Batman snorted. "They wouldn't. They can't."

"The next day anonymous packages were dropped off at several foreign embassies in Rome. They contained cultural treasures that had been missing for decades or centuries. Treasures that went missing after Catholic missionaries arrived. There is some speculation where these relics have been all these years. Some gossips have linked the treasures to the Vatican break-in but there is no proof and no one is talking."

Batman smiled faintly.

Zatanna coughed. "Supergirl and I met my contact. He finally received permission from his superiors to talk to us."

Kara picked up the thread. "His name is Wyvern and he works for their equivalent of a magical CIA or DoD in R&D. He gave us quite a bit of information that I've added to the files, mainly players and their factions. The names pretty much match with what Batman gave us. There is more history and cultural information in the file as well but everything he told us indicates Hermione Granger and Harry Potter are in the right. Every action they've taken is completely legal. Including this Blood Feud thing. It is very rare because it has to be endorsed by the Gods but they basically have a Get-Out-Of-Jail card as long as they follow specific RoE. Rather medieval but still legal according to their own laws.

"The Feud has been declared and borne by Granger though she is clearly involving Potter and her other allies in her fight. It is not quite clear who the senior leader is, but Potter and Granger have no problems working with each other and sharing power. In fact, Harry Potter is the primary public face and leader of the field agents executing the hits. Granger seems to be doing the planning and logistics. She has not made many public appearances since she declared her Feud in front of the Wizengamot, the magical equivalent for the House of Lords."

Diana stirred. "Superman and I met with the British Prime Minister. After laying out our cards, the Prime Minister was very surprised. He has been under the impression that the fighting had ended when Harry Potter killed Tom Riddle for a second time. When we proved his liaison was clearly lying he was not pleased. He has given us the authority to investigate and nip this threat in the bud. He wants a complete threat assessment report and any suggestions on handling future outbreaks of violence from the magical enclaves before they spill outside."

Superman coughed softly before picking up the thread. "We also visited Diagon Alley and picked up some of the more recent publications and are quite disturbed by the clearly biased opinions in their history books. Saviours or Savages. Hero or Criminal. Victim or Threat. Saint or Sinner. Whore or Frigid. Barbarian or Ignorant. There is no middle ground. They seem to take great pleasure in building up heroes and tearing them down. There is no personal accountability or libel laws. Some of what I've read… It's horrific."

Batman glanced around. "This situation requires an intervention and we've received the go ahead. Are we in agreement?" Everyone nodded firmly. "All right. We all know we can't track them easily. They are probably wary of outsiders knowing of magic."

"We have the Prime Minister's blessing." Green Lantern pointed out. "Why don't we meet with their Minister. Some fellow called Kingsley Shacklebolt."

Batman nodded. "All right. John, Diana, contact this Shacklebolt and request a meeting." He looked around. "Kara and Kal-el can help me with a little scouting and mapping. We need to find the limits of the magic used to hide the enclaves."

...ooOoo...

TBC…


	5. Reunions

Summary: Batman makes demands, Hermione concedes, and events move much faster than planned.

AN: Warning, character deaths in this chapter.

* * *

**...ooO Reunions Ooo...**

Hermione frowned and stared at her hands resting on her thighs covered by sand coloured linen robes. Restlessly she began rubbing her belly as the child within stretched and squirmed in reaction to her tension.

"Don't worry Hermione. The JLA do not interfere in internal matters of a country and we are clearly following the laws. We have been making every effort to track and prevent any violence directed towards the Muggles." Harry spoke reassuringly. "Kingsley said they were very polite."

Hermione shook her head. "Perhaps. But why do they want to meet me?" She looked around warily. "I don't like it. Too exploitable."

"You do not have to be concerned Miss Granger." The door opened for a trio of spandex clad JLA members to enter. Harry and Hermione stood up and moved apart in reflex, to increase the target zone for potential attackers. "We have taken precautions. Supergirl is on the roof of the building to stop any intruders from outside." The man in red, blue and yellow spoke calmly. "The building itself has been secured with electronic surveillance gear that work around magic. If someone unauthorized enters we will know."

Hermione bit her lip and nodded curtly.

Satisfied he continued making introductions. "In case you are unfamiliar, I am Superman. The lady is Wonder Woman and the other man is Batman. We are members of the Justice League of America. We would like to talk to you about a few recent events, but before we begin would you like any refreshments?"

Harry and Hermione shook their heads. "No thanks. Could we skip the polite talk and get down to what you want?" Harry spoke bluntly.

"We tracked Bruce Wayne's kidnappers to one of the factions in the Wizarding Conflicts." Batman spoke just as bluntly.

Hermione's voice thinned. "Bruce? But how?" She glanced at Harry who shrugged. "If it is about his condition, we did the best we could. He was rescued, treated, and dropped off in a place where we knew he would be found."

"No." Batman growled. "This is about the carelessness with which your society memory wipes ordinary citizens. From where we stand it is an assault!"

Her mouth firmed and her shoulders squared as she lifted her chin. "What we did is required by Magical Law. Go after the ICW; it is our version of the UN and just as effective at making sensible decisions." Her eyes narrowed. "I don't see what is so special about him for the JLA to investigate. There have been many other mundane victims of magical assault. Are they not as important?" She challenged.

Superman winced. "I'm afraid Bruce Wayne is a special case. He is an important sponsor of our organization and subject to more than average threats. When he failed to follow proper procedure, we assumed the worst and started looking. Our doctors discovered his amnesia was clearly not natural. We used some other resources that broke the blocks."

Hermione rocked back on her heels and nearly fainted. Bruce knew. He knew. She reached out blindly and was grateful when Harry was there to grip her hand.

Batman was looking at her. Hermione could almost see his mind work, calculating, factoring, dismissing, extrapolating, retaining… She tore her eyes away and looked at Superman. He seemed more sympathetic and open.

"I am sorry for the terrible experience he had. All of us do not feel the same way and we are trying to change the laws. So no one will ever go through the experience he did." Hermione spoke softly. "It is difficult though. Mortal Justice in our world is not Blind."

Batman stirred. "Bruce Wayne asked us to pass a message. He remembered enough to believe there was a chance he could be a father." He glanced significantly at her waist. "We plan on informing him of what we have found out."

Hermione flared. "You can't!"

Batman did not flinch. "Tell him or we will."

Static charged her hair. "You have no right to interfere in a personal matter."

"It is not your call." Batman's voice was stony. "Let him make his choice. Don't take it from him like you did when you wiped his memories."

Hermione sagged against Harry. "I didn't want to." She whispered.

"Perhaps," Batman allowed. "But right now he is worried about you."

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "What am I supposed to do?" She asked despairingly. "We live in two separate worlds. On two different continents!" She rubbed her forehead. "This would make shared custody or even visiting rights a nightmare."

Batman stared at her. "Right now he is in Paris. He can be in London in a few hours." He produced a card and held it out. "Contact him."

Hermione gingerly accepted the card. It was a personal business card with several phone numbers, American and British, and two email addresses. She resisted the urge to crumple and incinerate it.

"I'll think about it." She spoke in thin tones. "Is there anything else that you specifically need my presence for?"

Superman shifted on his feet. "No."

She carefully tucked the card into a small slot in her forearm wand-holster.

"Then I am certain Harry will be able to answer any questions you may have. I have other matters to attend to."

She ignored the polite murmurs of farewell, the watchful piercing eyes, the instinct to run and hide. Once she closed the door behind her she began to move faster. She needed to run. She needed to hide. She needed to talk to someone. She needed Luna.

---

Batman's attention was divided. Half was on the conversation Superman was having with Harry Potter, half was on the woman who had just left. He remained silent as Superman went over the script they had agreed on. The wizard confirmed most of what they already knew and provided a few more details. All throughout, he eyed Batman angrily, warily, suspiciously.

Once the meeting was ended, polite farewells said, he stopped just before leaving the room and spoke to the Dark Knight.

"I don't know what game you and your friend Bruce Wayne might be playing but Hermione is a close friend of mine and I am very protective of my friends." His eyes were hard polished bits of green glass. "I will not tolerate anyone trying to pressure her into anything she doesn't want."

Batman smiled sardonically. "I spoke to Bruce Wayne. His impressions indicate Miss Granger is not the type to give in to anyone."

Harry snorted. "Everyone has their weak points Batman. I'm certain you know that better than most."

Batman stilled and inclined his head, acknowledging the hit.

Harry sighed. "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions Batman. Please tell that to your friend Mr. Wayne."

With that he departed, leaving the three League members alone.

Superman eyed Batman. "What was that all about?" He suspected, but he wanted to hear it straight from the source.

Batman hesitated. Superman glanced around the room. "It is still secure."

"Hermione Granger's child. I am almost certain it is Bruce Wayne's."

Superman and Wonder Woman froze. "What?"

"You've been hiding the facts." Superman controlled his temper. "We can't work with an incomplete picture Batman."

Batman inhaled deeply. "Lucius Malfoy kidnapped Bruce Wayne and Hermione Granger for an unknown ritual."

"Yes. A sacrifice." Diana was confused. "They were waiting for the correct time."

"No." Batman responded harshly. "They were waiting for a child. By some unknown criteria, they made their choice of who would be the father and mother and then kidnapped them. They subjected Hermione to a very potent drug that stimulates lust and fertility in the user. She looked like a junkie going through withdrawals in just twenty hours. She started scratching her arms and thighs into shreds to focus on something other than the desire. The magic had built up so much that she healed within seconds of cutting her flesh. When that stopped working she thrust her hands into the fire to use the pain as a focus." He ignored their horrified expressions and pressed on. The lines between Bruce Wayne and Batman were blurred at this point. He could not sub-partition something having such a strong emotional effect on him.

"I couldn't let her go mad. Not when I could stop it." He ran a gloved hand over his face. "After, when we were rescued the medic on-site confirmed her pregnancy. The consensus from everyone was it would be best to terminate. Hermione was already under the scrutiny of many political opponents and they had decided to declare open war on multiple influential families. As the focus for the Blood Feud, Hermione would be in the thick of things; she could not afford to be slowed down by pregnancy or by a child. If she died, the Feud would end since she has no other family. Moreover, there was the risk that Malfoy would attempt to complete his plans by kidnapping the child when it was born. They treated my injuries and dropped me off before I could find out what she had decided to do. When I regained my memories I thought she wouldn't have taken the risk of carrying to term so I didn't mention it." He inhaled deeply. "I didn't realize she had chosen otherwise until we eavesdropped on her meeting with Watkins."

Superman's jaw worked at that outpouring from the normally very close-mouthed Batman. Then he realized something.

"You are under a great deal of strain, aren't you?"

Batman glared at the Kryptonian. "I found out I'm going to be a father a few weeks ago and the mother is a witch who I've never met before we were kidnapped by magical versions of Nazis and put in the same cell. What do you think?!?" He growled.

Superman smiled faintly. "I think you should be happy. Your child will be extraordinary having the two of you as parents."

Batman was taken aback. Wonder Woman smiled and added her two bits.

"I agree with Kal-el. We don't know the intimate details of Hermione Granger's life, but what we do know indicates she is a very strong woman. She did not hide from past challenges, and I do not believe she will flinch from any trouble to come. Do you remember what she said in that lawyer's office?" The Amazon's voice was soft as she quoted. "I want my child to grow up in a better world. If I must, I will set the world on fire and act as the Gods' Hammer to reshape it. I see no reason to relax and become complacent; not when the guilty are still free." Then Wonder Woman smiled. "Is that not what you do? You never relax, are always vigilant, fighting to make the world a better place."

Batman nodded mutely.

Superman rested his hand on the Dark Knight's shoulder. "I think Miss Granger is the type of woman who will choose to do what is best for everyone but herself. She won't stop you from getting involved in raising your child. The only question is what kind of relationship you want to have with her. You might want to think about that while waiting for her to contact you."

Wonder Woman nodded. "Take some time off and think about it. This is very important to you. The rest of us can handle basic observation and recording. Just alternating between the different restaurants in Diagon Alley is giving us a pretty good picture on the general attitudes and views of the populace."

---

"Go and see him, Hermione." Luna ordered firmly. "You owe it to yourself and him."

"But what if he hates me?" The pregnant witch moaned.

"You won't know until you talk to him." Luna pointed out. "Besides, if he really hated you he would not have made so much effort to find you. I mean, he could have very easily just stayed in America and feigned ignorance."

"Then why isn't he here?" Hermione was fretful.

"He is waiting for you to take the first step. Besides, it is easier for you to find him than for him to find you. I mean he had to send the JLA out to track you down!"

Hermione choked on a laugh. "He didn't!"

"Well, maybe not. But still you told me Batman said he was worried about you."

"Yes."

"Draco Malfoy or Dudley Dursley would never have been worried enough to look for you."

"Yes."

"Then call him! One meeting won't kill you."

...ooOoo...

Bruce paced around the edge of the spacious living space decorated and furnished by an award-winning designer. He had discarded his tie and suit jacket in the last thirty minutes. His hair was messy, lips drawn tight.

"Master Bruce, pacing around like a trapped animal is not helping. Try to calm down."

Bruce glared at Alfred, his long time retainer and butler, the man who raised him.

"She hasn't called, Alfred."

Alfred raised his eyebrows. "It has been just two days since Batman dropped that ultimatum on her. I've known married women who hesitate to tell their husbands they are going to become a father."

Bruce stilled. "She will call." It was an unvoiced request for reassurance.

"She will." Alfred confirmed. "Everything indicates she is the honourable sort. She did not want to wipe your memories and send you away. You heard it from her lips."

Bruce nodded and began pacing once more.

"Master Bruce, why haven't tried to approach her? As Bruce Wayne?"

Bruce hesitated before answering. "She has to come to me. If she really wants to, she can vanish into a magical enclave in some other country and I will never be able to find her. There are no networks to hack or electronic trails to trace. You saw it yourself Alfred, once the children start their training at eleven they effectively vanish. We only found her because she formed a contact with the world outside the enclaves. She wanted to send the children surviving the Blood Feud away; to grow up outside Europe away from the prejudice of most magical enclaves." He stared at a piece of abstract art, a creation of metal and glass resting on a waist-high pedestal. "If she feels threatened, she will retreat and vanish. She must trust me enough to come to me."

Then the phone rang. Alfred answered it. "Bruce Wayne's residence. How may I help you? … Yes he is, do you wish to--. Oh. … Yes, he is definitely free tonight. … Should he pick you up? … That would be suitable … I will let him know." Then he hung up and turned to his old charge. "You've received an invitation to dinner."

Bruce growled. "Alfred…!"

"From Hermione Granger." Alfred continued, unrepentant. "That was the lady herself. She wishes to see you tonight. Seven at Starlight Dreams. It is on the Quay." Then he smirked. "Shall I lay out your tuxedo?"

...ooOoo...

Hermione Granger carefully placed her menu down. Her stomach was too knotted for anything exotic so she had ordered a simple pasta with creamy sauce. Her dinner companion had elected for a couscous dish with stir-fry. She tried not to meet the piercing grey-blue eyes of the man across the table from her.

Bruce Wayne leaned back in his chair and glanced around. They had the entire balcony to themselves since Alfred had made the reservation with a specific request for privacy. The restaurant owners were more than happy to accommodate American Billionaire Bruce Wayne. He sincerely hoped none of the staff would tip off the paparazzi.

"You don't have to worry about the press."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

Hermione Granger touched the small carved box she had placed on the table. "Notice-Me-Not charm. It is anchored via runes to this box. It will create a field that encourages people to ignore us. Photographers will have to know exactly where we are to direct their cameras to. Even then we will appear uninteresting and average."

Bruce was intrigued. An interesting toy... quite useful as well for the League. He forced his attention away and to the reason for this meeting.

"You got my message." He spoke neutrally.

She snorted softly. "Your choice of messengers was rather blunt."

Bruce smiled a half-smile. "He does get his point across."

Hermione sighed. "What do you want Bruce?"

Hot words died on the tip of his tongue. He did not want to antagonize her. "I want to know my child." She stiffened. "I don't want to be a part-time father only seeing him or her during the holidays or over videophone. I want our child to have a full-time mother and father." His expression was earnest. "I want my child to live in my world."

Hermione inhaled sharply. "You're asking for everything."

"Only in matters concerning our child. I have no rights on you. We were never in a real relationship."

Hermione glared at the American businessman. "You are asking me to give up at least ten years of my life. To move to a different continent, a different world, away from all my friends and family. If something goes wrong, as it usually does, I will have no back-up, no resources to draw on!"

"You can develop the resources you feel you'll need in Gotham. You can still travel and your friends can visit."

The British witch shook her head. "You are asking for too much."

"You don't have to make a decision immediately. I can work from London for the next few months. We can get to know each other before you make a decision." He offered.

Her expression was troubled, but she could not easily deny a reasonable request.

"All right. Just be careful about staying in London. Things are going to get dangerous."

He smiled, a sharp humourless expression. "You haven't seen dangerous until you've seen Gotham." He quipped.

"And you want me to move there?" Hermione teased half worried, half curious.

His response was simple and heartfelt. "It is home. Generations of Waynes were born and raised there."

There was nothing she could say to counter that.

"I'll think about it."

"Good. That is all I ask. Now why don't we get to know each other without the impending threat of torture and death and the gloomy atmosphere of dungeon cells?"

She eyed him carefully.

"Before we continue, there is something you need to know."

"What?"

"When you said you wanted to get to know your child you aren't being completely accurate. You should use children."

He stared at her uncertain of how to react. "Children?"

"Yes. Two of them."

"Twins?"

"Yes." She hesitated. "Do you want to know the genders? It is in my medical files but I asked Padma not to tell me."

Bruce thought hard and came to a decision. "No. Let it be a surprise."

...ooOoo...

Lucius Malfoy glanced around the circle formed in the middle of the dusty, cavernous room. A livid scar bisected the right side of his face. A scar that had refused to heal cleanly. Grey eyes absently noted the high walls and small windows of the Muggle warehouse. It was unfortunate they had to lower themselves to using Muggle property for their meetings. The bitch Granger and her team had mapped and trip-warded every property the Dark Families had access to. Properties with weaker wards had been broken into and burned to the ground. The older homes still stood though no one could approach them without setting off a net of alarm wards her group had cast just outside the property boundaries.

"We are losing ground." Thaddeus Flint grunted. "Every day more of us die or are hospitalized."

Pansy shifted uncomfortably. "My contact confirmed there was a box of heads delivered to the DoMLE."

"Who?"

Pansy recited a list of seven names. Strong, capable witches and wizards. Malfoy would never have expected them to have been caught and killed.

"Potter is not taking prisoners of anyone who evaded serious charges from the Dark Lord's Second Fall." Niccolo McNair reported. "Even those he captures are battered rather brutally in combat. Their side is not using Dark spells but the Weasleys are rather… creative in combat. I saw a new recruit taken out when one of them used a stone scouring charm on skin. He lost nearly all the skin on his back and could not move from the pain. He was captured, permanently sterilized then dropped off at St Mungos."

"We've already lost eight families." Narcissa Malfoy reported. "The older adults have been killed, the youths have been sterilized, and the children are missing, their names gone from the Family Tapestries and Records. Shacklebolt has forbidden the DoMLE from getting involved in a Blood Feud. He pointed out children are not protected from a Feud. I don't believe Granger and Potter are ruthless enough to have killed them but we don't know where they are!" Her breath caught on a sob. "Astoria is dead. Draco has been seriously injured. Scorpius is missing. Even those sent abroad have been tracked. With a Blood Feud in play, no foreign family or Ministry contact will help."

Lucius Malfoy glared at the non-moving pictures of the Muggle newspaper. "We still have a chance. The Muggle we used is in London. If we can get him, the Mudblood Bitch will feel guilty and responsible to step out to rescue him. Once we have her the Feud is over."

There was some hesitation, but in the end it was agreed. It was the only viable plan they had to get at Hermione Granger.

...ooOoo...

Hermione yawned as she padded over to turn the TV on. It had become a morning ritual, listen to the news while preparing and eating breakfast. She had just poured herself a glass of orange juice when she heard the report.

"Savoy London has just been attacked by unknown terrorists. Recently the U.K. has been under siege from some unknown group that has not made their identity or desires clear. Reports tentatively link it to the first attack that resulted in the kidnapping of American billionaire Bruce Wayne. For the second time in six months the wealthy magnate has been attacked while in Britain."

Hermione did not stop to listen to the end. She needed to find out herself.

Just as she ran out of the living room, the reporter continued.

"Luckily, members of the JLA were in Europe at the time of the attack. Superman and Wonder Woman helped the authorities to minimize the damage and capture the terrorists."

---

"Harry!"

Harry Potter started and spun around. He really did not like dress shoes and a suit and tie but Kingsley had insisted since Harry would be dealing with the Muggle authorities.

Hermione had not taken the time to dress up. She was wearing a sky-blue dress with a high waist that fell to mid-calf. On her feet, she wore wizard-made knee-high black boots that closed with no visible seam. The cream sweater she had thrown on was slipping off her shoulders, straining over her pregnancy bulge. It was clearly not designed as maternity wear.

"Where is he?" She cried out.

A stab of terror filled his heart. "Hermione! You shouldn't be here!" He ran towards her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, quickly scanning the busy surroundings. There were too many people, Muggles and not. It was too easy for a sympathizer to take Hermione out right now.

As though in response to his thoughts, Batman appeared.

"It is too dangerous for you to be in the open." He growled.

She shook her head stubbornly. "Where is Bruce?"

He stared at her hard. "He is fine. He was never in the hotel. The story was planted to draw Malfoy's faction out and it worked. Now move! We have to get you out of here!"

She glared at him but common sense made her comply.

---

Four hours later Harry returned to the safe house the JLA had set up, the same building where they first met them. Hermione jumped up and ran to him.

"What happened?"

"We caught the last of them."

Hermione stilled then brushed her fingers over the silver and gold markings on her face. Over the past months, the markings had faded with each bloodline and name they had ended. While she had been trapped in the safe house, she had seen more glyphs vanish until just two remained. Just two families still holding the blood and the name.

"Who is left?" She asked hoarsely.

Harry went into a list, reciting all the names captured and sterilized. Some of whom they had agreed were too dangerous to let live. However, they could not be killed in the mundane world. But once they were out of the non-magical world they would be put down.

At the end of it, Harry was smiling.

"Petrov Parkinson. Narcissa, Draco and Lucius Malfoy. I thought you would want the honours to deal with them." Tears slipped down her cheeks. Harry ignored them and continued. "They've all been heavily sedated and restrained. The Muggle Prime Minister wants the maximum penalty that can be laid on them. He is not comfortable with the idea of a Blood Feud but agrees it was the only way to deal with them given current laws. He wants impartial witnesses, magical meta and Muggle to make regular reports on everything that is happening."

Hermione brushed her tears away and nodded. "Good. Make sure that the Wizengamot is included in their access list. The Muggles might not have a voice in our law making but if the Prime Minister can pressure them into making fair laws and judgments it will help. For too long the Wizengamot has swept messes under the rug, especially during Dumbledore's time. Remember Sirius? Malfoy? Crouch? No. Impartial observers making reports to outside groups who can push hard are a very good idea."

Harry nodded then hesitated. "Hermione, Bruce Wayne is here. He is at the Ministry. He wanted to be there when you end the Feud."

Hermione hesitated. "He should not be here."

"He has every right." Harry countered. "His life was disrupted and endangered because of Malfoy. They forced him, took away his choice." He touched her belly. "Don't take this choice away from him."

Hermione knew Harry was talking about more than the obvious. She nodded. "I'll be there in an hour. I need to change."

...ooOoo...

Bruce Wayne breathed slow and deep as he moved into a Zen state. He ignored the grandiose architecture and over-sized furnishings of the Wizengamot Meeting Rooms. They had no say in what was happening. They would only be witnesses; witnesses to drive certain unbending points home – the days of unrestricted play were done.

"Are you sure you don't want Batman to be here?" Superman murmured soft enough for only Bruce to hear.

The billionaire glanced over with a cold stony expression better suited for Batman.

"Absolutely. They attacked Bruce Wayne."

Superman nodded and they both watched as the ancient group of witches and wizards paraded into the Chambers and went into a flourish of flowery speech that was ignored by half the audience.

Superman looked horrified, it was like watching a train wreck.

"The appointments are for life, limited to ancient families." Bruce explained bluntly. "Once they get into the chairs it is nearly impossible to pry them out. Hermione once said the only way the laws could be changed is by putting the fossils into comas long enough to get their seats filled by younger bodies."

They watched as ten chained witches and wizards were pushed to the center floor.

"The Head Families." Bruce noted grimly. "The ones Potter is determined to kill. And I can't blame him. It is like dealing with a hydra."

There was a sudden dip in the conversation. Bruce turned to see who or what caused it and saw her standing in the entryway, framed by the heavy double doors. Not slim, tall, and gorgeous, but short and very curvy, due to her pregnant state, and serene. Her mass of brown curls had been woven back into a crown of braids wrapped around her head, her skin clear and unpainted, her mouth moist and faintly glossy. There were fewer metallic glyphs glinting on her cheek and temple. Her pregnant state was clearly displayed in the empire-style mid-thigh long cream tunic-top she wore over an ankle-length scarlet skirt. The top was clearly tailored given the way it draped over her, a high neck with a key-hole cut revealing her chest and cleavage, sleeves designed to expose the top of her arms and shoulders. She wore no enshrouding, covering robes like every other witch and wizard. She carried her wand in a forearm holster clearly visible through the slits in her tunic sleeves.

Blue eyes met brown in perfect understanding. She raised a faint brow as she took in his appearance. Firm and unyielding, dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal Armani suit matched with a pale silvery grey shirt and a scarlet tie. One hand was in a pocket, the other casually resting at his side but Hermione was certain he could easily take out any five witches or wizards if he felt it. He shifted slightly on wing-tip shod feet. Hermione knew he was impatient to get this Over With. She felt the same way herself.

"My Name is Hermione Granger. I called Blood Feud upon my enemies and now the End of the Feud draws near."

A plump, pompous looking middle-aged wizard dressed in peacock blue and yellow robes coughed.

"I'm glad you feel that way Miss Granger. It is quite barbaric how you declared Blood Feud without even consulting with--."

"Silence!" The word was cold and final. Her eyes were hot and cutting. The pompous fool recoiled. Bruce smirked. "I called Blood Feud because Ministry Law failed to deliver Justice! The Powers Sanctioned my Feud." She gestured at her left cheek. "I vowed and I have kept that vow. Today it will be fulfilled in entirety." Darkly emotionless eyes fell upon the dishevelled, chained forms in front of her.

She paced forward, drawing out her wand. She stopped before each for ten seconds before reaching a decision and casting a spell that knocked the target out before casting something more serious. In some cases, mainly with the elder generation, she cast a Severing charm that decapitated the target. In others, mainly with the younger ones, she cast Obliviate. With each spell she cast, one by one the silvery and gold glyphs on her face shimmered and faded. She continued without stopping until only two were left standing, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, both looking very fearful and terrified.

Hermione's lips stretched into a humourless expression. "My obliviates were cast with one specific target in mind. Unfortunately it has the side-effect of sending its victims into childhood, a point in their past where they were truly innocent, with no prejudice. Harry has ensured they will never have offspring. I have ensured they will never remember anything that they should feel so proud of. They will have to grow up from infancy and relearn Everything. Their estates will be sold off and used to finance their care under retired Aurors selected by Harry Potter. Everything else recovered will be used to look after the survivors of their depredations. Tell me, Narcissa, are you feeling terrified? Would you like to be obliviated or would you prefer to die? Your husband and his kind did not give that choice to thousands."

Narcissa Malfoy nee Black stiffened her spine. Her hair was not smooth and perfect, her face smudged with dirt, her clothes stained.

"I did everything to protect my son." She spoke with quiet dignity.

"Yes. You did. You maintained the perfect illusion of a family to keep him happy. You coerced a brave man into an Unbreakable Vow to protect him. And you lied to Voldemort about Harry's condition to save him. You fought only to save your grandson." She tipped her head to one side and touched her waist. "I am going to become a mother myself Madame Malfoy and in some ways I understand the desire behind your actions. But the actions themselves are Unforgivable." Her eyes flashed. "But I am going to give you a chance. The last one you will ever have. Your treasures, lands, and vaults are gone but you will have your son, a child in a man's body. You will have a second chance to raise him, without prejudice, under Harry's supervision. Raise him well, Narcissa, and perhaps you will find joy in the coming years. Your grandson is lost and will stay lost until he is a man and willing to contact you." Her eyes flashed. "Beware Madame Malfoy, if you betray this trust you will die."

Narcissa Malfoy bowed her head, a single tear slipped down her cheek. "I understand. I am willing to make whatever Vows are required."

Hermione nodded briefly and stepped away from her and towards an enraged Lucius Malfoy who was hanging onto his composure just barely.

He glared at the first generation witch with raw acidic hatred. "You are a cowardly bitch using others to fight your Feud!"

Hermione raised a single brow. "You expect a pregnant woman to duel an adult man?" She held out her hands. "I don't think so."

"I demand the Right of Combat."

There was pin drop silence before the uproar began. The focus of a Blood Feud did have the right to demand formal combat the bearer of a Feud.

"You aren't getting a wand." Harry Potter's voice was clearly heard over the others.

Hermione stared at Lucius Malfoy, unafraid, her mind working rapidly.

"Harry is right. You are not getting a wand. You duelled with magic and lost. You have no rights to a Combat with Wands."

A muscle flexed convulsively in the pureblood's face.

"Then swords," he smirked. He was confident about his skill with a blade. He had been trained, as every Malfoy had, how to use a gentleman's weapon. When he did not want to leave any magical traces, he used a sword secreted in one of his signature canes.

Hermione paled. She had heard about the pureblood fencing saloons. It was a dying practice but still kept alive by the old traditional families. Even Malfoy's most hated opponents grudgingly agreed he was a Master with the Blade.

She turned to look at her allies. Harry was very pale. If James Potter had lived, if Harry had a proper wizarding upbringing he would be able to duel with blades. Arthur Weasley never had the galleons to give his sons the necessary lessons and training. She knew many wizards who were good with a wand but a blade! Despair sank her heart. Malfoy was going to escape.

"I will be Hermione Granger's champion."

Everyone who turned to the Muggle who had spoken.

Fresh venom flared in Malfoy's eyes. "You!"

Bruce Wayne smirked. "Yes. Me."

Gold eyes widened. "Bruce, you can't!"

Dark blue eyes caught hers. "I want to. Wonder Woman could but I need to do this."

She chewed on her lower lip. "You'll have to kill him. If you don't, he'll walk free for five days. Five days until the Feud restarts. Bloodier than ever." She warned him.

Blue eyes hardened. "I can. I will."

Malfoy scoffed. "You? There is no way you can beat me. I am a Master!"

Blue eyes turned frigid. "So you claim."

Malfoy snarled and turned to the Wizengamot. "This Muggle has no right to be involved in a Blood Feud or a Right of Combat duel! He does not belong in our world!"

"But I do." The Americans voice was cold and cutting. "I am very concerned about Hermione Granger's well being. The children she carries are mine. My heirs. Her safety and theirs depend on this feud Ending!"

That caused a fresh stir of consternation. After some consultation, the Chief Warlock spoke.

"The Muggle may stand as Hermione Granger's champion in a Combat with Swords against Lucius Malfoy. Blades will be provided by the Ministry. Aurors clear the floor and set up a duelling ring."

Ten minutes passed while the floor was cleared and protective barriers cast. Then one Auror returned, levitating a plank of wood bearing several cases behind him. Malfoy opened the case handed to him and smiled as he removed the sword. The weapon was clearly a Masterpiece. And one he was familiar with.

Hermione glared at the Auror floating the cases. He was a half-blood known for taking bribes from pureblood patrons.

"That is Malfoy's personal sword." She hissed at Bruce. "Or one he is familiar with. The bastard must have been planning for a Combat with Swords all along."

Steely eyes did not look away. "Patience, Hermione. Malfoy can play all the games he wants. He will not be winning this one."

Hermione scowled. "Let me check your blade for any hexes."

Bruce smirked. "Of course. If it passes my inspection you can check it."

Bruce ignored the arrogant disdainful expression of the red-robed Auror as he accepted the first blade. Then he placed the tip against the ground and pushed away, causing the blade itself to bend and flex. It snapped.

Bruce raised an arch brow. "Inferior steel."

The Auror merely handed him a second blade that received the same treatment. It too snapped. Then another, and another. By now, the Auror was flushing. The entire audience could see the Muggle was being given flawed weapons.

"How disturbing." Bruce murmured as he tested the edge and balance of one that passed the flex test. Then he tossed it in the air, causing it to flip and caught it by the base of the blade. "Unbalanced. Clearly of poor workmanship." Steely eyes pinned the Auror. "Why don't you just open all the boxes and let me choose."

The Auror opened his mouth to protest then shut it at the hard warning expression.

Bruce went through the cases until he found one that was acceptable.

"This will do. I would prefer one from my own collection but this will do in a pinch."

Then he handed it to Hermione who subjected it to a series of detector spells before passing it back to her Champion.

By now Hermione, Harry, and the rest of their faction were feeling more confident and Lucius Malfoy was feeling more worried. But he was not too worried. An American Muggle who dabbled in fencing would be a rank amateur next to him, he who had been fighting with blades for decades. He could easily control the duel.

He was sadly mistaken.

From the moments their blades clashed, the American took control of the fight, never relenting, always pushing, pressing, limiting.

Lucius Malfoy fought back using every dirty trick he knew and then some. Even the minor wandless magic he could use to push his opponent off balance was not making any difference. The other man was reacting too fast, too powerfully, too ferociously. As the minutes passed Lucius Malfoy had the sinking feeling that he was in over his head.

The Muggle did not use the traditional European style. He used a unique blend of Eastern and Western using his body in addition to the blade. Lucius had only seen something like this once before. When he was a young man in Japan watching a display of samurai-wizard swordsmanship. The blade was more than just a weapon, it was an extension of the arm, it was a limb that reacted just as deftly as the flesh.

His clothes were cut and bloody at various places, weak points. The Muggle could have killed him at anytime but he didn't, he played with him! And then it happened.

The tendons in his dominant hand were deftly cut at the wrist. The sword slipped from his hand. As he ducked to lift it with his other hand the Muggle circled and cut at the back of his knees and kicked. Malfoy just managed to keep from falling on his face by his still good arm. He watched terrified as the Muggle kicked his sword, his family sword away with one sweeping foot. Then he moved around the senior Malfoy in a cross-leg step, close enough to use his sword but out of Malfoy's reach. Unless he threw himself across in a sprawl. Undignified and eventually futile. Given what he'd seen, the Muggle had better reflexes than a Professional Seeker.

He cursed the day he had chosen this Muggle, Bruce Wayne out of all the wealthy Muggles he could have kidnapped. There was no give in the hard blue eyes. No mercy.

"Hermione." His voice was low and hard, demanding.

Without hesitation, the mudblood bitch entered the duelling circle and moved to stand next to him, her Muggle lover.

"Your call. Your blood feud. Death or life?"

Her response was clear. "Death."

Lucius barely felt the slender point of the blade slip between his ribs. There was almost no pain, just the growing numbness.

"You brought this moment upon you Lucius Malfoy. You brought me into your world by your own free will." The American's voice was cold and clear.

Hermione's wand flared and created a foot long tongue of blue flames from the tip.

"As you have sown death, so shall you reap."

She brought down the wand like an executioners axe. His head hit the ground with a thump and rolled away. Long strands of silvery hair floated to the ground. Then the kneeling, headless corpse toppled over, the neck stump neatly cauterized.

Hermione felt the last traces of magic burn on her cheek and knew they were all gone but one, a single glyph high on her cheek, the sign of Nemesis, the sign she had once called a sanctioned Blood Feud and kept her vow. The gold bangles at her wrists dissolved into a shower of sparks that twirled around her waist before flying off in every direction and fading. She did not know she was crying until Bruce wrapped her in his arms and pressed her face against his chest.

"It's done. It's done." She wept softly.

His large hand cupped the back of her head. She felt his chin rest on top of her head.

"Yes." His voice was deep and rough. "It is done. I thought it would have taken longer."

Hermione pulled away and shook her head. "No. We did not start with the adults; we went after the children and teenagers first. By the time they realized how quickly we were moving it was too late. Padma drilled at least one person in each team in the sterility hex. None of them knew what we were doing, they all thought it was just a miscast spell. By the time they realized the purpose of the spell almost ninety percent of them were tagged. Then it was just a matter of taking them out." She smiled grimly. "A massive obliviate and a new inmate in a special European asylum. The exact same effect as killing them for the vow. They don't remember anything. All they knew was that their allies were not responding to any messages so they had to be dead."

Bruce felt his gut relax. "You mean you planned on this all along?"

Hermione shrugged. "I did not want to kill them." Her eyes were earnest. "They needed to be stopped but with the current system any sentence is just a short-time out." Her eyes were steely. "Now the guilty will never leave. Even if they do recover, their psyches will be completely different from before the obliviate."

Superman frowned. "Surely there are ways of breaking the blocks!"

Hermione nodded. "There are. But I tweaked the spell after reading the case file of an old teacher who is currently a St Mungo's resident. He suffered an obliviate backlash through his own wand and it overloaded his neural pathways." She frowned slightly. "It causes permanent scarring so the memories can never be recovered but new ones can be formed. For obvious reasons I did not teach this to anyone. Whenever Harry's teams made a capture, they brought him or her to me for treatment."

Wonder Woman smiled warmly. "You did well sister."

Brown eyes widened. "Thank you." And then she turned to Bruce. "Do you still want to get to know me? Knowing all that I did? What I am capable of?"

Bruce smiled faintly. "Part of me is scared of you but a greater part is admiring. You made a hard choice and did not flinch no matter how difficult the path became." He brushed his lips against hers. "I would be honoured if you would join me in Gotham."

"You should go, Hermione." Harry broke into the discussion. "The Feud is over but there are other Families. They are terrified for now but it won't last." He gestured at her waist. "You are getting bigger and slower. When the babies come you will have two others who are completely dependent on you to worry about."

"Wayne Manor has the best electronic security system on the market and I am more than willing to check with the American magical enclaves to add magical security and wards." Bruce offered. "The closest enclave is in Salem, but the leader is very comfortable with dealing with the non-magical community. Quite a few American wizards run companies that serve both communities." He smiled faintly. "I did some investigating after I recovered my memories. Dark Lords are a phenomena common to Old Countries, mainly Asia, Africa, and Europe. In the other continents they tend to be stomped out quite thoroughly before they become a nuisance. I guess no American will tolerate taking orders from someone who treats them like dirt."

Hermione laughed. "That's a relief." Then she hesitated. "But there is so much to do…"

Harry shook his head. "You should go Hermione, take some time and relax. You've already done more than your fair share. We can look after things here." His green eyes were steely. "You gave up everything to help me when we were just kids. You continued to fight to help others. Now it is time you look after yourself first." He looked at Bruce Wayne. "I only have one request to make, please look after her."

"You don't have to worry about that Harry." A familiar cheerful voice called out. "Because we'll be going with Hermione."

A pair of red-headed men approached, George Weasley and an older one with waist long secured in a tail and thick scars marring his face and hands. With them was a beautiful woman with pale blonde hair.

"'Ermione!" The woman called out in a thick French accent.

Hermione smiled and reached out with both hands to air kiss the taller and older witch. "Fleur. It is wonderful to see you. How is Victoire?"

Fleur beamed. "Growing fast. You will see yourself with your little ones." She made a face. "You do not have to worry. Molly is babysitting."

Hermione heaved a relieved breath. "Thank Merlin for small favours. I was thinking of hiding until you told me." She wrinkled her nose. "Once she finds out, she'll start sending howlers to badger me into changing my mind about Ron."

Fleur trilled. "Why would you want a boy when you clearly have a man?" She murmured in arch tones glancing at Bruce Wayne who smiled, feeling honestly amused at the bold but clearly unserious flirtation.

Hermione blushed and made introductions. "George Weasley, his eldest brother William, Bill, Weasley, and Bill's wife Fleur Weasley née Delacoeur. Superman. Wonder Woman. And this is Bruce Wayne." Then she frowned and turned to George. "What did you just say about going with me?"

George grinned broadly. "Fred's Fun House is expanding to America. Lee can look after things here while I have a look see across the pond." He glanced at his elder brother. "Gringotts is transferring Bill and Fleur to their Chicago branch."

Hermione beamed then her face fell. "What about…" She trailed off.

Bill shrugged slightly and smiled. The scars on his face stretched. "They don't care as long as I take precautions. I only stayed in England because Mum was lost when Fred died and then later when it was clear you and Harry would need help."

"I didn't realize…"

"We didn't want anyone to make a fuss about it. You and Harry are family. You don't abandon family when they'll need you. Besides, I've got a few months before the new position starts. I can do a survey and help set up the wards if Mr. Wayne is interested." He inclined his head politely.

Hermione looked up to catch Bruce's eyes. "Bill is a curse breaker, a very good one. He did a lot of ward breaking for the Gringotts expeditions in Egypt, excavating the tombs."

Bruce nodded in understanding. "And the flip side of ward breaking is ward creation. Just like poisons that can be used to heal in small quantities."

Hermione beamed. "Yes!" Then her eyes became more cautious. "European laws classify Bill as a werewolf after he was attacked by one. He only changes at full moons and even then, he doesn't transform fully. For those that do there is a potion called Wolfsbane that reduces the pain and savagery caused by the change but it is expensive."

Bruce nodded and spoke mildly. "I'm certain he did not want to be attacked. Just like no one chooses to be infected with HIV."

Relief bloomed in her face. "Thank you. Bill and Fleur are good friends but many people shun them. Because of Bill's condition," she whispered.

Bruce absorbed the information and made further notes. Perhaps he should investigate into emigration policies. If there were so many under-appreciated groups of magic users in Europe perhaps they could find a more accepting home elsewhere?

Then he came to a decision. "You are more than welcome to join Hermione and me in my penthouse to discuss possible arrangements."

Hermione frowned. "Bruce! I didn't say I would go."

"And are you going to say no?"

"That's not the point!"

"It's easier to beg forgiveness than get permission." He pointed in smug tones.

George laughed. "He has you there Hermione! How many times have you broken the rules using that excuse?"

She struggled for an instant then sighed. "Oh I give up!" Then she glanced up with an impish expression. "Ask me properly Bruce."

The billionaire blinked then complied. "Please move to Gotham with me. I am willing to arrange for your own private residence but I'm hoping you choose to live in my home. I'd like the chance to get to know you without the threat of violence, death, and kidnappers hanging over our heads. I can't promise there will be no violence but I will do my best to protect you from any threats."

She considered him with a thoughtful expression. "Yes. I think I will. But we still have a lot to talk about." She warned him sternly.

He nodded. "Yes. That is why I'm asking you to move in. It will give us more of an opportunity to get to know each other better."

She nodded then turned to the Weasleys. "Do you want to join us for dinner?"

George and Bill opened their mouths then oofed when Fleur elbowed her husband and brother-in-law simultaneously. "No 'Ermione. We'll see you tomorrow at lunch. There is this little café two blocks north then west of the Leaky Cauldron. They 'ave wonderful pastries."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "We'll see you there at noon."

"Très bien." Then she grabbed the Weasley men and dragged them off.

Harry smiled faintly and brushed a kiss against her cheek. "Use your portkeys to get around. I'll see you tomorrow as well."

Then she glanced at the two JLA members who had been silently listening all this time.

Superman smiled. "You don't have to worry about us." He caught the billionaire's eye. "We'll be in touch Mr. Wayne."

Bruce nodded and then took Hermione's hand to lead her out of the Wizengamot Chamber. Outside was a noisy mob of private citizens and reporters. Bruce was not impressed.

"No comment." His voice was pitched over the mob. "We will be releasing a prepared statement tomorrow afternoon at four." His eyes were ice. "If you irritate me I will buy out your papers and have you fired."

A familiar reporter with an elaborate hairdo, cat eye-shaped glasses and heavy make-up spoke. "You can't threaten us!"

Bruce arched an eyebrow. "I don't make threats Ms Skeeter, I make promises. If any of you bothered to do the background research you will know I am wealthy enough to keep that promise."

And with that he pulled Hermione through the crowd.

Rita Skeeter fumed, but did not dare to press because she knew he was speaking the truth. Bruce Wayne was one of the top 100 wealthiest Muggles on the planet. Even a fractional percentage of his private wealth would be more than enough to buy and sell every single wizarding newspaper in Europe.

Hermione was in a daze. "You are my hero." She told him once they were out of earshot. "No one has ever managed to control Skeeter."

"Really?"

Hermione hesitated then amended her statement. "Well, I did when I was fifteen. I found out she was an illegal Animagus. She changed into an insect and spied around to get her news scoops." She frowned. "It didn't work for long."

"Blackmail rarely does." Bruce was amused. "You have to be careful in using it. Too much and the target gets desensitized."

Hermione shrugged. "I learned that. I'm better at playing the game now."

Bruce laughed. "Hermione, you are going to fit just fine in Gotham."

...ooOoo...

TBC…


	6. Meetings in Gotham

Summary: Secrets are revealed and shared. Hermione meets her potential in-laws and demonstrates her talents and methods to the Clan.

* * *

**...ooO Meetings in Gotham Ooo...**

Hermione swallowed the last fragment of her New York style cheesecake. It was a wonderful dessert that followed the main course, pasta with seafood tomato sauce. Firmly she resisted the urge to lick her plate. Then her eyes caught the amused ones of her dinner companion over his wine glass.

"I know the feeling. Alfred easily puts most restaurant chefs to shame."

She sipped at water. Rose wine would be a better complement... but she was pregnant. "I've always admired people who can cook. I don't have the patience to prepare a full-course meal but I can make the basics: stir-fries, soups, salads, sandwiches." She smiled wryly. "I nearly starved after I graduated from Hogwarts; there were no ready-made meals and I was so engrossed in my studies. If it weren't for my roommate Julie I would have lived out of a can. She taught me the basics. My mother," her breath caught. "My mother couldn't cook either. It was very simple meals or ordering in. We had the take-out menus for almost every single place within 40 minutes that delivered on the fridge."

"The records are a bit odd. Your parents vanished when you turned eighteen."

Hermione shook her head. "I sent them to Australia under different names. Monica and Wendell Wilkins." She smiled bitterly. "Dumbledore, our Headmaster, had just been killed. It was only a matter of time before the war came out in the open. My parents were unwilling to leave me behind so I obliviated them, I removed their memories of me and sent them to Australia. My childhood home was attacked the week after I sent them away so I felt I made the right choice." She inhaled deeply. "After Harry killed Voldemort I ran into trouble at the International Portkey Office." Her eyes were hard. "The bitch refused to issue the license for the portkey. I should never have told her it was for my parents, for my non-magical parents. By the time I managed to get the portkey it was too late. My parents were killed by home invaders just the day before. They caught the gang-members responsible but you know what?" Her eyes were bitter. "They were guilty of a lot of things but not my parents' death. They were imperioed by Petrov Parkinson. The non-magical Australian courts ordered them to be sent to a mental asylum for their 'delusions about men casting magic waving wands'. They managed to get help for their personal problems in that place and got out a year ago. The bitch from the Portkey office was fired just a few months later when an internal investigation uncovered she was putting traces on the portkeys she issued. She was supposed to testify for reduced criminal charges when she turned up dead in an alley. Parkinson was never even charged. The Australian Ministry tried to extradite him but was denied on insufficient grounds. Hah!" She sipped her water. "I arranged for them to be buried in Australia. Daddy had learned to surf. Their neighbours said Mummy loved hiking along the beach. It felt like they belonged there."

Bruce stilled. He had been a child and he felt responsible for his parents' death. Hermione had been a teenager and she Had played a key role that lead to the circumstances causing her parents death and it was still tearing her apart. Which was worse? Both were just as horrible. He spoke slowly.

"I think bad things happen to good people. Sometimes we don't have a choice in what happens. And sometimes we have to make a choice. In both cases we don't know the outcome until it happens."

Hermione bowed her head in acknowledgment. "I'm not telling you this for sympathy. I want you to understand where I stand. I am paranoid about my safety and the safety of my loved ones. I'm probably going to push you to carry portkeys and modified tracer beacons in case you get kidnapped. I don't like public functions because I feel too vulnerable in a place I haven't scouted and secured myself. I tend to poke, pry, and dig because I need to be certain about the people around me. When the babies are born, I am not even going to consider public schools. I'm going to ask friends to consider home schooling, to send their children to study with mine under a teacher of my choosing."

Bruce considered her words. "The portkeys sound acceptable but beacons can be hijacked by other parties. I agree with you about public functions, especially in Gotham where the Rogues love crashing society affairs. We could only attend functions hosted by the business or the Foundation where we have more control over the security. About the prying, I have secrets, I freely admit it, every adult does, I can share some with you but not all; you'll have to respect that. Home schooling sounds like a good idea, but we'd have to ask to find other families with children of similar ages."

Hermione relaxed. "Okay. I can live with the secrets part but I don't want you to lie to me. If you don't want to tell me, say so straight out. Don't twist and turn things to keep your secrets. If I discover a lie I will doubt everything else you have told me. And lies have a tendency to come out when you least want them to."

Bruce winced. "Yes. I know."

Her eyes were solemn and steady. "On the other hand I am every bit as good at keeping secrets as I am at discovering them. I've kept them for many people. If you are willing, I will listen and keep yours." She looked at her water goblet and ran a finger over the rim. The expensive crystal 'sang' softly. "Some secrets are kept to protect others but sometimes keeping secrets just put others in danger. Dumbledore kept secrets to protect others. He rarely shared information with others because he believed they did not need to know. He practiced safety in ignorance. His keeping secrets nearly killed Harry and me and it eventually killed him."

Bruce looked troubled and torn. Feeling more encouraged she continued.

"You know, I never realized how much Bruce Wayne and Batman had in common."

Her companion inhaled sharply, his expression hardened and his eyes focused like lasers on her. Hermione did not flinch.

"Excuse me?"

She merely raised an eyebrow and looked away pointedly.

Bruce was torn. She had made it very clear. She did not want to be lied to. And then she alluded to his crime-fighting activities. For years he had insisted his students and team to always hide their civilian identities from Anyone. Even now, only a few select members of the League knew of his civilian name. If she was confident in her deductions, any denials would just destroy whatever trust he had managed to build with her. Should he or shouldn't he? Then he saw her eyes. Patient, calm, steady with an undercoat of steel. She meant what she said. If he lied this would be the end of it.

"How?" This time he spoke in lower harsher tones.

She did not look pleased, smug, or satisfied. She merely nodded and tapped her finger against the damask table cloth.

"Little things. The way Batman pressed me to inform Bruce Wayne. Why the JLA went looking for Bruce Wayne. Why Batman was not present at the Wizengamot with Superman and Wonder Woman. The way you duelled Malfoy and held our kidnappers off until Harry rescued us. Why you were so calm and steady during our imprisonment."

Bruce frowned. "That is inconclusive."

She raised a brow. "You live in Gotham and you love the city despite its fall from grace. Your parents were killed when you were young and the criminal responsible got off. You dropped out of university and vanished only to reappear just when they were about to declare you dead. Then Batman shows up just a few months later. The ages of your wards, the way their ages and appearances match the appearance of certain vigilantes who work with Batman.

Bruce considered the information. "Most do not see it."

"Occam's Razor." She responded mildly. "The simplest answer is generally the most correct." She touched her lips. "Of course it helps that I don't live in America. I am not comfortable or familiar with the superhero crowd so I'm paying attention to the details. And I've spent years ferreting out the truths behind the masks." Her expression turned admiring. "Of course most of the time the façade of indolent wealth hides an amoral soul only interested in exploiting the weak for money and power, not a true hero."

Blue eyes widened briefly. Then he came to a decision. He rose from the table and disappeared into one of the bedrooms. In less than a minute, he returned with a metal briefcase he placed on the coffee table as he sat down. Curious she rose to join him on the sofa and watched as he unlatched the briefcase to reveal the suit and cape.

"I'm not perfect." His voice was harsh and low. "I have failed. People have died."

Her eyes were steady and calm. "Of course. You are not God. You are not responsible for what others choose to do."

"I haven't always made the Right choice."

Hermione snorted derisively. "Bruce, you said it yourself; you never know what the Right choice is until after the fact. By then it usually is too late." Her expression was gentle. "All we can do is make the best decision we can based on what we know at that moment in time. If anyone says that they could have done better they are lying. No one does better. We do what only We can."

He stared at her bemused. None of the other women he'd had relationships with, women who knew of his different aspects or even both, none of them had accepted it as calmly as Hermione had.

"Aren't you afraid? Shouldn't you be saying this is too dangerous, you don't want to be connected to me in case of any violent fall out? That it wouldn't be safe to raise a child in Gotham City? Especially if the father is the local vigilante?"

Her lips lifted into a tolerant knowing smile. A smile he had often seen on Alfred's face. Usually right after he said something foolish.

"At least you have the sense to hide behind a mask before starting on your crusade. Myself? Every pureblood bigot knows my name and face. There is more risk that some grieving, angry survivor will track me to America to get revenge for the Blood Feud. There is more risk of kidnappers wanting Bruce Wayne's money than of criminals wanting revenge on Batman."

"You are not afraid?"

She glared at him. "Of course I'm afraid! But I also know you will take every precaution possible. You would never have survived so many years if you weren't careful." She sighed. "Just do the best you can."

Bruce nodded wordlessly.

"Is there anything else on your mind?"

He studied her intently. Ever since he first started, he had met many women that had drawn his interest, as Bruce Wayne and as Batman, but never had he met a woman willing to accept both aspects of him without a qualm, a woman who interested both parts of him. Selina had come closest but in the end, the challenge of the Game was more intriguing than he was. His last attempt at a relationship with Diana crashed and burned before it even got off the ground. Carefully, he gathered his thoughts and began speaking.

"I'd like to try to have a real relationship, not just amicable respect."

Her brow creased. "Why?" She wanted to know.

He leaned against the sofa back before speaking. "Sharing my life is difficult at the best of times. There is always going to be conflicting needs. The society prince, the businessman, the philanthropist, the crime-fighter. Most women aren't willing to accept being lower on the list of priorities, the demands on my time."

Hermione stiffened. "What are you insinuating--?"

"Hush." He pressed a callused finger against her lips. "You understand what it is like to be obsessed, to be devoted to a cause. But at the same you know how to accommodate others. You balanced the needs of many without abandoning your own." He touched her baby bump. "It would have been so easy for you to terminate."

Her eyes flared as she wrapped her arms around her waist protectively. "I could never!"

"You could have but you chose not to. You chose the difficult, hard path and stayed true. Despite all the opposition, pain, fear you did not falter. All my past relationships failed at the critical moment for one reason or another. But with you," he stroked her cheek, thumb pressing against the pale silvery glyph high on her cheekbone, the lasting evidence of her Blood Feud. "With you I think it could work." He lifted his hand away. "I'd like to try and see if we can have more."

She chewed on her lower lip before coming to a decision. "Okay, I'm agreeable to date. To get to know you. But I am not okay with sex." She blushed. "I know it is a little late to protest that, but I'm really not comfortable. We never got to know each other properly before… you know. And given how much my body has changed, will change." She waved her hand at her belly. "I think we should wait."

Bruce was faintly amused. "I don't see any problems with that." Then he looked more interested. "Do you mind telling me why you're willing to take a chance on me? I doubt it is because I am wealthy or a hero."

She considered his question before answering it. "You are alone despite being surrounded by people. Dilettantes more interested in having fun. Activists who shy away from using force... or use too much. Even among your JLA colleagues you stand out by your attitude and the way you do things. Because you have no special powers but your own mind and will." She moistened her lips. "Most wizards fear me. They fear what I know, how I could use it against them, what I could do. There are only a few, like Harry, who treat me casually, without fear. They are my friends but sometimes I feel like a parent, so much older and trying very hard to keep control of an unruly mob. Is it like that for Batman?"

He nodded wordlessly.

She smiled faintly. "Then we'll either get along wonderfully or drive each other crazy. I'd like to find out which."

...ooOoo...

Alfred Pennyworth hummed softly as he prepared breakfast for Master Tim and Miss Cassandra. Everything was perfect in his world. The Master would be back in Gotham for dinner with his Lady, and in a few months, there would be a new addition to the household, a son or daughter for Master Bruce.

Tim Drake eyed Alfred warily. The butler seemed more light-hearted than usual. Usually he fretted when Bruce was out of town on his night job. Especially with the bait stunt to lure out those magic-using terrorists. What was going on?

"Is something going on, Alfred?" He glanced at Cass who looked as puzzled as he felt.

Alfred smiled smugly. "Master Bruce will be flying in today afternoon."

Tim blinked. "So soon? I thought he had business in Salem."

"There were fewer complications than anticipated. He will be home with his lady friend."

Tim stilled the hand holding the glass of o.j. "Lady friend? I didn't know Selina was back in town." He put the glass to his lips and began to drink.

Alfred raised both brows. "Miss Kyle? Oh no. It is not Miss Kyle, but I believe you know of her, Master Timothy. You may have seen her in Britain. Hermione Granger?"

Tim did a spit take. Alfred wordlessly held out a napkin and kitchen towel. Tim hastily mopped up the spilled juice.

"The magic-user who led a war against the terrorists using Feud as legal defence?" Tim squeaked. "Are you sure she didn't put him under some sort of spell?!?"

Alfred frowned mildly. "I've spoken with Miss Hermione myself. Master Bruce is not under any sort of spell."

Then Tim realized something else. "Wait a second! The lady is pregnant! Doesn't she have a boyfriend or husband?" Then he realized something. "He's not dead is he?"

Alfred looked at the teen with a faintly tolerant expression. "Master Bruce is the father." He prepared a cup of tea for himself. "He has informed me Miss Hermione is expecting twins. They were conceived the time he went missing and returned with amnesia. The event was not planned, but Miss Hermione decided to continue with the pregnancy despite the difficult circumstances. After Master Bruce found out, he persuaded her to move to Gotham to give them a chance to get to know each other better. Her friends also agreed it would be safer she move out of Europe for a time."

Tim frowned. He did not know the details about Bruce's missing time. Even after the memory blocks were broken, he had been very stingy with the personal details. Figures. Then his mind focused on Alfred.

"I have invited Master Richard and Miss Barbara to join us for dinner this evening." Alfred proclaimed. "They will need to know in case the press find out before we are ready."

Tim blinked and nodded. When Alfred spoke in that voice, it was best not to fight. You'd lose no matter what.

...ooOoo...

Richard Grayson scowled. He didn't like this at all. Bruce had always had a hard-on about keeping their identities secret and what did he do? He went and got a complete stranger pregnant, told her about his night life, and invited her into their home ground!

"Why are we here again?" He muttered to Barbara who was in her wheelchair reading some files on her portable data pad. "She could be a gold-digger after his money!"

"Perhaps," a cold, steely voice cut through. "And even if that were the case I would have expected Bruce's students to gather information before drawing conclusions. Especially about someone they have never heard of or seen before."

Dick jumped reflexively and turned to the staircase where a not too tall, but clearly pregnant, lady a few years older than himself was making her way down on light soundless feet. Her curly brown hair was twisted into a loose knot at the back of her head with small tendrils escaping. Her face was not gorgeous but merely pretty. But her eyes! They were just as penetrating as Bruce's, only they were pale brown shot with gold shards.

Barbara coughed slightly. "We did. But it seems like you vanished from government records when you turned eleven until you appeared in the JLA files." Her look was speculative. "Published media conflicting greatly with witness testimony."

The English witch merely raised a brow. "When you have conflicting data what do you do?" She inquired mildly. By now, she had reached the bottom of the stairs and was making her way across the tiled floor, one hand resting on her waist.

"Wait and observe." Tim muttered. "Draw our own conclusions."

"Correct." Her voice was prim and proper with just a hint of rebuke. She looked at Dick straight in the face. "You are an adult, act like it. I don't expect us to be best friends but Bruce is more than old enough to make his own choices. Respect that."

Dick stiffened. "Like he's made such good choices in the past."

Her brown eyes narrowed and turned frigid. In less than a second, a slender shaft of wood appeared at a flick of her wrist and hand. Before Dick could scramble away, she cast a spell at point blank range. A purple glow surrounded him, hazing him from everyone's view, and then it shrank and became smaller and then vanished leaving an almost mature grey cat where Dick had once stood.

The cat hissed and ran forward on paws, then stopped and looked at its own paws clearly shocked. After shaking its head, it ran forward to attack her ankles.

"Mr. Grayson, if you do not behave I will leave you as a cat for longer than a few hours. Bruce can easily arrange for your time off." The witch warned the cat in very stern tones.

Dick-cat sat on his butt quickly.

Then she turned away and smiled. The action made her look beautiful. They looked to see what she saw. Alfred and Bruce who were clearly amused at the situation.

Bruce looked down at his first ward and adopted son. Dick reminded him of Selina's cats with their more than average intelligent eyes. He raised a single brow.

The pregnant woman shrugged. "Hormones. Most wizards know better than to annoy a pregnant witch. Besides, he should know better than to make assumptions."

Bruce nodded and made a mental note to identify her buttons. "Change him back. I'm sure he's learned his lesson."

Her eyes narrowed briefly but she complied and stood calmly besides Bruce as he made introductions.

---

Over the course of the meal, Barbara became more and more comfortable with Hermione Granger. The older woman was definitely strong-willed enough to stand up against Batman and win! Barbara could see it in the subtle interplay between Bruce and Hermione, the little contests of will, clashes on various hot topics. And the strange thing was that they were not hurt by the games. There was just an appreciative nod, a faint smile or knowing expression when the other scored a point. It was as if they were tallying a scorecard. It made Barbara wonder what would happen at the end of the day or when the card was full.

The boys watched with silent, disbelieving eyes at what could only be called intellectual flirtation. Though she did not have formal education in the arts or sciences, Hermione Granger was clearly no fool. She had an unexpected breadth of knowledge and experience in obscure and unknown fields, both magical and mundane and was comfortable switching between both with ease. When she was not familiar with a topic, she listened and asked questions before making insightful comments. Cassandra just watched, enthralled by the silent scoring game.

The first Batgirl studied Bruce carefully. He looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him. In the cape, he was always intent and focused on the job. Even out of the cape, his mind was busy with plans. Now he was just enjoying the conversation! Barbara considered the remnants of her crush and decided it was time to give it up for good. She had never made him relax like Hermione.

It hurt, but not as much as she had thought it would. A small smiled stretched her lips. "Do you have any ideas about what you want to do?" Barbara asked the English witch.

Hermione considered the question. "I'm an activist. I'll find a cause that interests me. It is not like I need a job." The tines of her fork tapped against porcelain. "I also trained as a Healer in case any of you might need my services." Then her eyes narrowed on Barbara. "If you are willing I'd like to examine you. There might be something I can do that traditional doctors can't."

Barbara frowned. "I don't see how. My spinal cord was severed. You can't regenerate nerve tissue. Can you?" She was torn between hope and fear.

Hermione did not confirm or deny. "Given how old the injury is and that you do not have a magical core the odds are definitely against you. I need to run some tests first. I might not be able to do anything until after I deliver though. But even if I cannot do anything about the damage there are potions that can counter the muscle atrophy and charms that can fill in some of the sensory gap and make your life easier." A faint frown creased her brow. "It will take time to accumulate the tools and supplies for a full med-wing, but Julie might be able to help." She saw their confused expressions. "Julie Xiu Apprenticed with me and currently works as a Healer in San Francisco. Some of the materials I need are controlled and only available to licensed Healers. I went through the training but I stopped before taking the Vows. It would have been a conflict if I needed to fight. Do No Harm is literally a magical vow." Her expression became distasteful. "Of course, benign neglect is something many of the pureblood Healers specialize in."

Barbara's eyes were wide and thoughtful. She struggled to control the surge of hope. "That would be okay. A few months won't make much of a difference." Then something came to the forefront. "Are you planning on getting licensed to work as a Healer? Or working after the babies are born?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Not as a licensed Healer. I might work freelance for some of the enclave businesses as a consultant. I am a very good problem solver." Her lips curved into a wry smile. Then she remembered something and turned to Bruce. "Bill and Fleur will be here tomorrow afternoon. "They are comfortable with taking Unbreakable Vows. It may take longer with only a small team but there is less exposure."

Dick frowned. "Who are Bill and Fleur?"

Hermione blinked mildly. "They are friends from England. They will be doing a survey of the Manor and the Cave to add some wards to increase the security."

That made all of them frown. "You're telling more people?"

Hermione sighed. "Unbreakable Vow people. A witch or wizard who breaks it either loses their magic or dies. It will need to be carefully worded for possible loopholes but Bruce is going to write it himself."

Dick smouldered. "What is so special about this magical security? What we have is the best and it has worked just fine."

Hermione eyed him impatiently. "If I demonstrate, will you shut up about this?"

Dick was taken aback by the blunt words. "Sure."

Hermione rose from her chair and picked up a napkin and steak knife. "Where is the floor most stable?" She asked Bruce. "And preferably stone you can replace?"

"The ball room." Bruce answered promptly. "I'll show you."

And then he guided the witch to the place, the couple was followed by the others who watched as Hermione carefully knelt on the marble stones, compensating for her girth. She produced a brush and ink pot from thin air and used it to draw strange symbols on a tile before moving to the one next to it. Intermittently she had to get up to change positions. As she moved, Bruce was behind her, helping her kneel and get up to move. There was a comfortable intimacy with the way he handled her. After a few minutes, she had inked enough tiles to enclose a three by three square.

"Stand in the middle," she ordered Dick who warily complied.

Then she cast a spell on the knife before using it to cut her palm. She dipped her wand tip in her bleeding wound and then touched it to the design she had inked on the stone. The symbols flared with iridescent colours before fading into nothing. With a pleased smile, she sat back on her heels before allowing Bruce to help her rise.

"Try stepping out."

Dick tried then bounced back after running into an invisible barrier. Carefully he reached out and touched the air, ran his fingers around unseen walls that trapped him in a box. A box much taller than he could jump unpowered without a running start or leverage.

"This is a containment ward." Hermione spoke in cool lecturing tones. "Very simple to break. If you know how. In this case, it has corners, edges, weak points, and it does not extend into the ground. Undermine the stone and it will crack. Overload it with energy and it will break. Wards can be designed to trap a single person, a thief, or a whole army. The bigger the area of effect the more complex the design. It is more cost-effective to design a labyrinth linking smaller ward-nets to eliminate and funnel intruders towards traps. Wards can be powered with magic or any elemental energy. Blood, life, fire, air, water, lightening. The more powerful sources are those that move freely from one point to the next. Human beings, lightening, and fire. The strongest wards are those incorporated into the structure during construction or those cast in natural formations. Like caves.

"Bill Weasley is an expert ward breaker and designer. He spent years with Gringotts in Egypt as a curse breaker for their excavations and it is a very dangerous profession. His wife Fleur is his also his field partner. His brother George is an expert in unconventional defences. He and his twin ran a joke shop; they loved playing pranks in school – avoiding the teachers on patrol, setting up traps and not getting caught red-handed. A lot of their tricks can easily be adapted for your type of field work. If there is a hole, Bill can find it and George can help fill it."

Dick rocked back on his heels at this out pouring of information. The tone and delivery were very much like Bruce, though she gave more explanation than his old mentor.

Tim stirred. "Why are you doing this? Being so helpful?" He wanted to know.

Her expression softened. "I have been fighting in one war or another since I was eleven. My conscience will not allow me to retire completely though my common sense and protective instincts screams it is not safe." She touched her waist. "I will not go out in the field but it doesn't mean I can't help at home base."

...ooOoo...

Bill Weasley couldn't help but be impressed by Wayne Manor. It was not slip-shod fast construction. It was beauty designed to last and age gracefully. And he recognized several rare, unique pieces that added greatly to the manor.

"You 'ave a très belle 'ome." Fleur trilled in her light, French-accented voice.

Bruce Wayne inclined his head. "Thank you." Then his eyes turned to Bill. "Hermione said you were willing to make an Unbreakable Vow. I have written a suitable script."

Bill glanced at Hermione who nodded encouragingly. "That will be fine. Fleur and George are okay with it. But I still don't know why a standard privacy contract is not enough."

Bruce Wayne smiled faintly. "You will find out. Please join me in my study."

---

"This is bloody wicked!" George Weasley darted around the huge cavern examining the display cases featuring the Rogues and fighting gear. "Leave it to Hermione to fall into the lap of a real hero when she gets into trouble!"

"George!" Hermione's voice was shrill and filled with dire threat.

George paused in his examination of the over-sized coin. "What? It is true! It started when Harry rescued you from a troll!"

"That was just First Year!" Hermione snarled. "And I've rescued myself plenty of times."

"Yeah, but you also work best with heroes." George pointed out.

Hermione muttered something uncomplimentary. George smirked.

"And you used to be such a polite, good little girl. Always following the rules." His grin widened. "Except when you break them you blow them wide open."

Dick, Barbara, Tim and Cassandra couldn't help but smile at that quip.

Hermione made a huffy sound and turned away pointedly.

Bruce turned to look across the room at Bill Weasley who was casting a series of spells alongside his wife, occasionally stopping to make notes and discuss the results. Once they finished, the couple joined Hermione and Bruce at the table. Barbara and Dick joined them while Cassandra and Tim dragged George around to give him a more personal tour.

Bruce waited until the husband-and-wife team were seated before speaking.

"Well? Can you secure the Cave?"

Bill nodded. "Definitely yes. You have a very good source of water with the waterfall, and underground rivers. The ground is geologically stable. Hermione mentioned Muggles can generate lightening by machines; you may want to invest in a few more to power the wards. I'll have to do some calculations and measurement comparisons to give you even a ballpark figure of how much power will be needed. I have never worked with Muggle devices that generate lightening. The biggest hurdle however is the open space." He gestured at the high ceilings and deep chasms. "Wards work best in small, narrow passages and entryways, like labyrinths that control the flow of intruders.

"To do a good job, I need to know what kind of people have tried to invade in the past, who you are trying to defend against. If there are just Muggles or metas we may be able to use variants on privacy wards. If you have magical enemies, it is a different story. We will be able to work around the open space using independent nets or webs. Some of the structures will have to be moved. I need to know what can and cannot be moved. If you have pipes that cannot be cut or damaged I must know."

Bruce smiled. "I'll print copies of the Cave schematics. Tim can help you check how your methods of measuring power compare with ours to develop a conversion scale." His expression was serious. "Do you have any other suggestions. A last resort defence?"

Bill thought hard. "You may want to have a safe room and put it under Fidelius."

"Bill! You can't be serious!" Hermione was aghast.

Bill frowned. "Fidelius is a good charm Hermione. It was just flawed in its use."

"It didn't help Harry's parents!"

Bruce frowned. "Why don't both of you tell me about Fidelius, the pros and cons, and let me decide. Bill first."

"Fidelius is an ancient charm that was rediscovered by Lily Potter. The charm consists of three parts, the secret, the secret keeper, and those who are told. During the First War, the Potters hid using the Fidelius to obscure their residence from everyone. Everyone knew the Potters lived in Godric Hollow but no one knew exactly where, even the ones who had been to the house before the Fidelius was cast. They would never know until they are told the secret by the secret keeper. In the Second War, the Order hid from the Death Eaters using the Fidelius to hide the headquarters, Twelve Grimmauld Place. You could walk by the street, see the numbers jump, and never think anything was wrong."

Bruce frowned. "Lily and James Potter were killed. What happened?"

"They trusted the wrong person to be the secret keeper." Hermione burst out. "Peter Pettigrew betrayed them to Voldemort. And when Dumbledore died, the Fidelius fell at Grimmauld Place because he was the secret keeper."

Bruce turned to Bill. "If it failed so spectacularly why are you suggesting it?"

Bill shook his head. "The Fidelius failed because it was badly implemented. Dumbledore was a leader, old and on the frontlines. He never should have been the keeper. It should have been someone obscure who was a permanent resident of Grimmauld Place." He grimaced. "Even someone like George or Fred, because no one would have believed they would be trusted with such a secret. In the Potters' case, James or Lily should have been the keeper because they had better reason than anyone to keep it safe. The secret keeper cannot be drugged or legimensed into giving up the information. It has to be spoken from their lips. The only way to get it is to force or persuade the keeper to speak and give it up by torture, blackmail or bribery."

"So what would you suggest?"

"Create a bolt hole, a small room, and fill it with survival gear and food. A room that no one knows of because there are other bolt holes that are more easily found." Bill answered promptly. "The secret keeper should be someone not too old who is not in the frontlines, someone relatively safe from harm but absolutely trustworthy."

"Like Hermione." Bruce murmured.

"Like Hermione." Bill agreed. "Limit the number of people who know the secret, a cell structure would be best; each person is informed of just two Fidelius hidden boltholes. Keep it isolated so even if one keeper breaks there is an alternative to get to."

"Is there a limit? To the number of secrets a keeper can hold? Or the number of people who can be told while keeping the charm intact?" Bruce asked curious. "Can non-magicals be a secret keeper?"

"I don't know." Bill admitted. "It is an old charm. Minerva might be able to find out more details from Dumbledore's papers. I can ask her to look into it."

Bruce nodded briskly. "Please do so. I want copies to be delivered in person into Hermione's hands. She can have a look at it. If it is feasible we may use it." Then he turned to George Weasley who had just joined them. "And what do you have to say?"

George became serious. "Timmy boy gave me a tour. Even with your toys, you are still too open. You did a good job using a mix to cover opponents with different invulnerabilities but sooner or later you're going to come up against one that cannot be knocked out."

Bruce winced. "Trust me; we've come across plenty of those."

George was curious but he did not dig. "Well here are some of my suggestions." He produced several pouches and packages from his robes and dropped them on the table. "The best way to stop someone straight in their tracks is to blind their senses. All of them." He picked up one pouch. "Instant Peruvian Darkness Powder. Creates a zone of darkness where you can't see a finger in front of your own nose. Muggle nightvision glasses don't work but these do." He produced a pair of sunglasses. "I've never tried it with x-ray vision and I know it doesn't work with heat-sensors so I have these." He opened a package and pulled out a robe made with some grey-silvery material. "I got the idea from Harry's invisibility cloak and some muggle movies. Heat absorbent and light bending." He demonstrated by swinging the cloak on and pulling the hood up. He appeared to blend into stone walls of the cavern. "I recommend using a coolant charm because it feels like an oven after a while. I haven't had the time to figure out the runes to do that. It is charmed to be silent, though I recommend using an air-light charm on your shoes as well." Then he emptied a pouch to produce a pair of spikey globes. "Banshee wail. Enough to drive anyone deaf. Hate to see what it would do to someone using an eavesdropping charm. We sell them at lower decibels for kids." He dropped a pair of fluffy blue earmuffs produced from a bag. Several lips twitched. "Blockers. They look cute and they work. I'm sure Hermione will be able to cadge something similar but smaller. And my personal favourites." He smiled gleefully. "Dungbombs. Guaranteed to leave a nasty taste and smell on anyone you target. It takes ten, hot, soapy showers over two days to remove all traces. There is a neutralizer potion that goes with it. Too many mums would not be happy if we sold just the dungbombs."

Hermione smiled at the awed, eager expressions on the younger faces. They looked very keen to test out the new toys. Bruce merely looked thoughtful.

"Have you ever tried to develop armour?"

George grimaced. "Fred was working on it just before the Second War. We developed something called Spell Cloaks. It was pretty good, shielding against lower level hexes. But for something that can stand against Dark Arts? No."

"What about purely kinetic energy? Physical blows?"

"There is a cushioning charm." George offered. "Most Quidditch players use it on their padding to reduce chafing and to soften blows from Bludgers and Beater bats."

"Isn't there something more permanent? Something that would redistribute or convert the energy to another form?"

Hermione stirred. "There are wards and personal shield spells that do that for spell energies. I haven't read of it being done with kinetic energy."

"Probably because wizards don't fight with their fists, usually." George commented. "In a duel you're trying to blast the other guy from a distance. The closer you get the more at risk you are." He looked thoughtful. "But it doesn't mean it is impossible. Just that no one has done it. That we know of." He added the hasty qualifier.

Hermione bit her lip. "I can pull up some information on the latest generation of ceramic composite armour. The ceramic absorbs the energy and hardens to dissipate energy from subsequent blows."

"And it isn't stable." Bruce rumbled. "After a certain number of impacts it breaks down. The only upside is it is much lighter than Kevlar and steel."

"You don't use titanium for your armor?" Hermione was surprised. "Why not?"

Bruce shifted. "Part of it is the cost and supply factor." He admitted. "I already use a lot of titanium in the special heavy-duty exo-suits, vehicles and weapons. If Wayne Enterprises starts purchasing titanium mines, someone is going to expect to be able to buy it. There aren't enough producing mines to be able to keep it quiet." Then his eyes focused on George. "You have some very good ideas here. Haven't you tried to market them towards Law Enforcement agencies?"

George frowned. "Mr. Wayne, you've been in wizarding Britain. You know what passes for law and justice there. If I sold my products to the Aurors, within days the pureblood bigots will know how to counter them." He shook his head. "No. I won't sell to the Ministries. I don't trust them to not abuse them." His expression was slightly haunted. "I will never sell something that can be easily abused."

Hermione patted George's shoulder, humming comforting sounds before turning to Bruce. "The twins sold the Darkness powder as a joke product, a prank. Draco Malfoy used it to create a diversion during my Sixth Year. It allowed him to let the Death Eaters in." Her expression was bleak. "Snape was forced to kill Dumbledore to keep his Unbreakable Vow to Narcissa Malfoy, to protect her son. And then everything went to pieces."

George stiffened his shoulders. "After that Fred and I were very careful about what we made. We had loads of ideas but we only sold the less dangerous ones. And we always made a counter-agent or neutralizer." His pale blue eyes were calm and steady. "But I'm willing to look into the old project books if you are interested. But only for your use, for your team under your supervision." He glanced at Hermione. "With Hermione around I don't think you'll go nuts and start blabbing to everyone."

Bruce inclined his head gravely. "That would be greatly appreciated. I would like to bankroll the R&D costs. It would be preferable if you were based on this continent, preferably the East Coast." His lips quirked into a faint smile. "I think Hermione would enjoy working with you." He glanced at the witch who was smiling softly.

"You are right Bruce. I think I would. When the children are older."

George was taken aback. "Mr. Wayne! I don't know what to say…"

"Say yes. And call me Bruce."

Bill laughed. "Say yes, George! It will be nice to have a brother on the same continent. You could work out of Salem or even Chicago!"

George was trembling. "I'll need to talk to Lee but I think I can swing it. It is going to be at least six months before I can have a proper workshop up and running." He warned.

"That is acceptable."

George nodded firmly. "Then my answer is yes Bruce." Then he smiled more impishly. "But my first project will be your belts. It won't be that difficult to implement, just a bit odd to get used to." He snuck a look at Hermione. "Tell me, Bruce, has Hermione ever told you about her beaded evening purse? She modified it herself with a nifty charm that made it bottomless. She carried tents, food, books, and a portrait of a very old Headmaster named Nigellus Black during the Horcrux Hunt." He grinned wickedly. "She probably could have fitted the kitchen sink and a lot of the gear in this cave and still have room to spare."

"George!"

Tim's eyes were wide as he stared at Hermione. "You really fit all that in one evening bag?"

Hermione shifted and rubbed her stomach. "I didn't try to fit the kitchen sink!" She exploded. Then she subsided. "It isn't really bottomless. Just very expanded."

Dick's lips trembled as he imagined Hermione sticking her arm, all the way up to the shoulder, into a little evening bag. "Just like a black hole." And then he burst out laughing.

Hermione just sighed. At least Dick was out of his sulks. Hopefully he and George wouldn't gang up on her. Too much. She glanced over at Bruce and was relieved to see the laughter in his bright blue eyes. He reached over and touched her hand.

"Tell me about your beaded purse."

Hermione grinned. "Well it started after the end of Sixth Year…"

...ooOoo...

TBC…


	7. Gotham Parties & Arkham Breakouts

AN: Hermione meets her first Rogue at a party and her second after a breakout. How does she handle it?

AN: Apologies for the horrendous delay in posting on

* * *

**~ooO Gotham Parties & Arkham Breakouts Ooo~**

Commissioner Jim Gordon manfully resisted the urge to tug at his bow-tie. He hated fundraising dinners but it was part of his job. He just couldn't get used to the feeling of being strangled!

"Commissioner Gordon."

Jim turned to the familiar, light-hearted voice. "Mr. Wayne." And blinked.

This time he was not accompanied by the usual glamorous date. The woman on his arm was definitely not a socialite, model, actress, sports-star, dancer, singer, or artist. She was rather short dressed in purple velvet and taffeta, lush curves enhanced by her advanced pregnancy, pretty with defined features, light brown eyes, and curly brown hair. She had been a regular companion for the past few weeks but no one had been able to find too much about her since he had always introduced her as just Hermione.

Jim noted with curiosity the care with which Bruce Wayne treated the woman, someone who Jim had never seen in the papers or on TV before Bruce Wayne started escorting her around. Absently he wondered what kind of man would leave his pregnant girlfriend in the care of a playboy and vanish.

"Commissioner, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, Commissioner Jim Gordon."

Jim sat up straighter. This was different. Bruce Wayne had introduced her with a surname. Granger.

"Miss Granger."

"Commissioner Gordon." Her voice was soft and throaty.

Jim glanced at the billionaire and raised an eyebrow.

The businessman nodded slightly. "We've been avoiding the press but Hermione feels it is time to be a bit more open." Then Bruce Wayne placed his hands on her shoulders and brushed a kiss against her temple. "I just need to have a quick word with Ted Hopkirk. I'll be right back."

Jim wondered what kind of relationship Hermione Granger had with Bruce Wayne. Was it friendship or something more? Was the father of her children even in the picture or was he deceased?

She smiled up at the younger man. "I'll be fine. I'm certain the Commissioner will take good care of me." Her expression invited Jim to smile and he did.

"I certainly shall. We'll be right here Mr. Wayne."

The playboy billionaire studied Jim with unexpectedly hard and serious eyes before he came to a decision and nodded before cutting through the crowd.

Jim shifted slightly when the shawl draped over her shoulders slipped revealing a large amount of cleavage straining over the top of the velvet bodice.

"Would you like to sit down?" Jim offered hastily. "I know my wife was easily tired near the end when she was carrying."

Hermione Granger smiled. "It is nice of you to offer but I'm nowhere close to delivery."

Jim blinked. "Really?" Then he studied her more closely. "Are you sure? Barbara was the same size when she had just a few weeks left." Then he blushed realizing how personal the conversation was getting. "I'm sorry Miss Granger."

"Please call me Hermione." Then she rubbed her belly. "I'm carrying twins." She confided. I still have six weeks but my doctor says they are definitely going to come early." She smiled warmly. "Too big. Like their father."

"Their father?" Jim inquired delicately.

"Ye-"

Then a hail of bullets tore through the room, shattering crystal glass and porcelain.

Reflexively Jim Gordon grabbed the pregnant woman by her arms and dragged her to the ground with him, pulling until they were both behind a buffet table.

"Stay here!" He ordered as he raised himself to his knees as he pulled out his back-up piece secured in an ankle holster.

~o~

Oswald Cobblepot was having a wonderful time. It was unfortunate high society had so little class… They did not invite him! They had to pay for such a slight with their pretty toys and baubles.

"Mr. P! Frankie winged the Commissioner!"

The Penguin frowned. Jim Gordon was an uneducated barbarian but he was an experienced cop. He would never have been winged by a stray shot. Without good reason. Quickly he moved through the terrified masses, using his ever present umbrella to make random stabs. Had to keep the masses off balance.

And there he saw it. Commissioner James Gordon bleeding from a side gash and a deeper wound on his left thigh. And oddly enough there was a pregnant dame dressed in plum velvet and taffeta playing nursemaid. She was folding napkins and pressing them firmly against the wounds while the young pretty things squeaked and wailed and tried to hide.

She turned to glance at him and looked away to use a shard of glass to rip a napkin into strips she used to secure the thick pad against Gordon's leg.

"And who might you be my pretty plump partridge?" The Penguin inquired in a drawl.

"I am the lady trying to stop the Commissioner from bleeding to death." Her voice was clear and crisp straight from England. An English Rose!

The Penguin tut-tutted. "Really my dear, such fine hands should not be besmirched by something as lowly as an ignorant barbarian's blood."

She blinked, a low sweep of dark lashes that lifted to reveal eyes of molten gold.

"You are mistaken, Sir. Commissioner Gordon is a fine knight. Just before you decided to intrude upon this gathering he was about to help me find a chair."

She shifted carefully on the shards, carefully folding her skirts to protect her knees before leaning across to press a fresh pad against Gordon's side. Her shawl slipped to her elbows to reveal a truly Junoesque cleavage.

The Penguin sighed. With such a lady at his side, no one would be able to look away!

"My Dear Lady. Would you grant me the honour of your name?"

She stared at him for a long instant before indulging his desire. "Hermione."

"Hermione. My Fair Hermione."

She sat back on her heels and raised a brow. "Yours? You are mistaken sir." She touched her belly. "I clearly belong to someone else."

The Penguin frowned then smiled. "I see no rings. No sign that you are claimed. The man must be a scoundrel to have abandoned you in such a delicate situation."

She looked amused. "You are mistaken. He is very protective and caring. The lack of rings is entirely my making. He has asked me to marry him but I asked him to wait."

The Penguin frowned. "You?"

"I." The word was steady, steely.

The Penguin leaned close to touch her cheek.

"How unfortunate. I think I might have to kill him."

Her eyes heated into liquid gold. Her lips parted moistly.

"Not."

And then she head butted him.

The Penguin recoiled and nearly fell back on his butt. Blindly he struck out with his umbrella and was aghast when Fair Hermione grabbed it and used it to pull him towards her, towards her fist!

The Penguin fell to the floor, nose broken and eye blackening. He did not even see her reverse her grip on his umbrella, swing it like a club and hit him on the back of the head with the handle.

Just as the SWAT team and security crashed the party.

~o~

Hermione was trembling as she relaxed her grip on the umbrella and let it drop. She could feel the tiny cuts on her knees, blood staining the gown Bruce had picked for her. It was a complete loss. Carefully she shifted her knees apart to increase her stability.

"Miss Granger! Hermione!"

She turned to the Commissioner. "Are you all right Commissioner?"

"I'm fine! Were you hurt in anyway? No discomfort? Bruises?" Jim Gordon asked franticly.

She smiled. "I'm fine." Then she winced. "Sort of. My knees are bloody. I can't stand up and I don't want to sit on the glass and get cuts on my backside."

"Montoya!" Gordon called out. "Get a broom or a thick blanket over here! A chair would be better! And the EMT!"

A Hispanic woman in uniform was quick to respond.

Within minutes, Hermione was sitting on an intact, unscarred chair while the female EMT treated her injuries and ran through a quick check up. Jim Gordon was undergoing the same treatment from a second female EMT.

"You really should go to the hospital for a complete check up." EMT Darla Raynes was very earnest. "You've had a big shock. And being so close to full-term…"

Hermione smiled politely and shook her head. "I'm fine. I will see my personal doctor tomorrow morning. I was not hit anywhere close to my torso. In fact I did most of the hitting."

Reluctantly the EMT conceded. "All right. But if you feel anything off, please go to the emergency room immediately. Is there anyone we can call to help get you home? Your husband?" Eyes darted at the ringless fingers. "Your date?"

Hermione blinked mildly. "Oh I'm not married." She looked around. "I can't see my date around, though."

"Probably ran off at the first sign of danger." One of the socialites sitting against the wall quipped. "Just like most men."

Hermione frowned. "That is the sensible thing to do. If I could have," she gestured at her belly. "I would have done the same myself. What good would it do to stay and increase the number of hostages a criminal would have?"

Then recognition dawned. "Wait a second, I remember you! You were with Bruce Wayne!" Everyone within earshot perked up. The redhead frowned. "I don't understand why he came with you." She looked pointedly at Hermione's waist. "You should be with your baby's father, not with someone so clearly out of your class."

Hermione eyed the unpleasant bitch and considered casting a socially embarrassing hex but decided otherwise.

"I do not see why my class-status should concern you."

"Nor do I," a familiar voice spoke in unexpectedly steely tones.

Bruce Wayne pushed his way through the crowd to stand next to Hermione. Carefully he studied her, eyeing the blood stained skirts pushed up high to expose her bandaged knees and shins and her slim feet in black ballet-style flats laced up with black ribbons. His expression was intent as he brushed back the small curls looking for bruises.

"I was talking to Hopkirk when the bullets started flying. Security and the police were quick to isolate each hall and evacuate. They didn't let anyone to leave or re-enter. I managed to call Alfred. But it seems like the police stopped The Penguin."

She translated the unspoken words. I couldn't get away to change. I signalled for help. What happened here?

Jim Gordon shook his head. "No Mr. Wayne. Your companion did it all by herself." His expression became more sober. "We've got plenty of eye-witness testimony including myself so we can wait for hers. You can come down to the station or we can send a couple of officers to take it from you."

Bruce was quick to answer. "Send them to Wayne Manor. Hermione is staying with me."

Gordon hesitated. "Okay. If you want I can have a couple of officers pick up her things and drop them off."

Hermione shook her head. "Thank you but that will not be necessary." She glanced up at her companion who was helping her stand and shake her skirts out.

The billionaire's expression was calm and unflinching as he met Gordon's eyes. "Hermione has been staying with me."

The Commissioners eyes widened in shock. He glanced at Hermione Granger who gave a tiny nod and touched her waist. Then he nodded. "Okay. I'll send Montoya over to take Miss Grangers statement. You may wish to prepare a joint statement for the press regarding your relationship."

Hermione blinked placidly. "We will. You should get some rest Commissioner. The painkillers will start wearing off in a few hours."

Jim Gordon watched the couple make their way through the crowd and vanish. He shifted slightly and winced at a fresh stab of pain. The EMT did not give him enough painkillers! He hoped he had some in his home medical cabinet from the last time he was hospitalized.

~o~

Bruce was a mass of nerves, a small tic throbbing in his jaw. He ignored Alfred's concerned expression in the rear-view mirror of the Bentley. Blue eyes iced and hardened as he turned to face her squarely.

"You endangered yourself." He spoke in the low harsh tones of Batman.

She did not flinch. "I was already endangered." She corrected mildly. "If I did not act, Jim Gordon might have died from blood loss. Or at the hands of one of the other thugs."

He frowned. "You drew The Penguin's attention."

Hermione frowned as well. "I did not plan on that." She confessed. "At first he called me a pretty plump partridge." She spoke wryly gesturing at her waist. "Then he called me Dear Lady. My Fair Hermione. I think it was the accent. He does seem the type to be drawn to class, and to Americans a polished British accent does sound up-there."

"You attacked him."

She met his eyes calmly. "I was not in any danger. I know he usually has weapons secreted in his umbrella. When I grabbed it, I sent a pulse of magic to disable the mechanisms. It could only be used as a walking stick or a club."

He glowered at her. "You said you weren't interested in fighting."

She frowned. "And I am not. But do not expect me to stand aside and do nothing when innocents are threatened just a few feet away!" She growled in a just as threatening tone.

Then she saw the fear and barely restrained rage in his eyes. She patted his cheek. "I'm fine, Bruce. I just want to get home and try to relax! My back is hurting me and I don't think I'm going to get any sleep tonight." She took his hand and placed it on her belly, moving it to a particular spot.

Bruce stilled when he felt a sharp jab from within the taunt flesh when one of the children within her struck out with a foot or elbow. "They are fine. We are fine. We just need to be a little more careful in the future."

Bruce frowned. "I don't like it. A Rogue taking an interest in you."

She tilted her head to one side. "It is to be expected. Sooner or later I would have met at least one of them. And you know I won't hide or run screaming, not when keeping a calm head means more chance of safe escape. It is bound to attract their attention, someone not reacting the same way as the rest." She made a face. "I must admit the thought of The Penguin courting me does make my skin crawl."

Bruce growled and shifted closer to cup her face in his hands and tilt it up. His kiss was harsh, demanding, seductive. Then he lifted his mouth from hers. His eyes were fierce, angry, possessive. "You are Mine. My Hermione."

She blinked and struggled to sit up straighter, a futile attempt given her current condition. "Not yours." She whispered.

He shook his head. "Mine. You just haven't admitted it yet."

She looked away, unable to counter his words.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Harleen Quinzel, aka Harlequin, blinked as she read the cover page of the tabloid paper being read by the Arkham Asylum guard standing outside the room designated for the inmates supervised recreational hour.

"Hey Ivy, did you see the headline?"

Pamela Isley, aka Poison Ivy, looked up with disinterest. "What headline?"

Harley jerked her chin at the guard. "Pengy was brought in last night."

"Really? Did the Bat or the Bird catch him?"

"Actually it was the Dame."

"Dame? Batgirl?"

"No. Bruce Wayne's Dame."

Ivy sat up straighter. "Selina?"

Harley shook her head. "No. This one has brown hair and guess what? She's pregnant."

"What?"

Ivy strained to catch a glimpse of the tabloid and saw the picture. A pregnant brunette with honey and chocolate streaks in her curls dressed in a purple maternity gown stained at the knees. Bruce Wayne standing protectively at her side, his arm around her shoulder drawing her close to shield her from the reporters.

They managed to get a copy of the paper from one of the orderlies. Ivy scanned it first and summarized it for her friend.

"Her name is Hermione Granger, a British citizen. She had a fling with Wayne when he was in Europe though she didn't know his last name. When he didn't stay in touch she thought it was just a tourist romance and moved on. It was the same time Wayne was kidnapped. He was found a month later suffering amnesia. He didn't remember anything about her until a few months later. When he did, he immediately went back to Europe and started looking for her. He found her and discovered he was going to become a father. Their relationship has been moving slowly because she is not used to his lifestyle but she says she is certain he will be a good father. Marriage is not in the immediate plans but Bruce Wayne says his name will be on the birth certificate as father. He asked her to move to Gotham so they could come to a shared custody arrangement if they aren't married when she gives birth."

"Wow." Harley breathed out awed. "Selina must be really cheesed. She laid claim on Brucie-boy Ages ago."

Ivy frowned. "She never stayed in Gotham. Besides there is a child involved, not just another woman. A child needs both parents."

Harley shrugged. "When has that ever stopped someone interested? Besides it is up to Wayne, does he want to make things work with the English broad or will he go back to Selina when she comes calling."

Ivy touched the photo, her finger tracing the other woman's face and curved belly.

"I hope he'll stay with her." She looked in the distance. "A child deserves to have two parents who care for each other and their baby."

Harley nodded solemnly. "I hear you Ivy. I counselled too many single-mothers and teenagers from split-homes. It just messes the kids up; unless all the parents really love them and aren't afraid to show it."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Batman frowned as he listened to the latest updates from Nightwing, Robin, and Batgirl.

"We've located all the escapees Batman. All but one."

"Joker." Batman growled. He studied the map of Gotham marking off the locations of all the escapees tracked down over the past two nights. "Where are you?"

If The Joker had answered him honestly, if he had heard the answer just then, he would have been terrified.

~o~

The Joker hummed softly as he easily circumvented the alarms and slipped into Wayne Manor. It wasn't his style to work without an audience, but in this particular case the aftermath would be a splendid joke on the Batman. The bastard spent all his nights tracking Joker, the other Rogues, and Arkham escapees and criminals. He spent nights leaving his dame alone and vulnerable. Perfect target.

The Joker knew Batman's alter ego, Bruce Wayne. Brucie-boy, Gotham's Billionaire Prince by day, Gotham's Dark Knight by night. He'd known for a while but he did not tell. Why should he? It would just ruin the fun he had playing with Batie-boy! The fun he had with the Robins and the first Batgirl. Now he would take away his woman and child.

The Joker giggled manically. It was going to be so much fun! If only he could see Brucie-boy find his dames body. Maybe he could set up a camera!

~o~

Hermione stiffened as a familiar yet not prickling sensation stung her hand. She raised a hand to push her hair back and stiffened. The quartz stones on the bracelet were glowing. Someone had breached the outer layer of the wards!

Hurriedly, she pushed herself off the bed and into a pair of stretch maternity pants. They did not fit over her belly. Quickly she tightened the drawstring and tugged a fleece robe over her flannel nightgown. She did not bother trying to belt it closed as she thrust her feet into her shoes. A wordless spell laced up the ribbons of the ballet flats.

A quick check of the semi-precious mosaic covering one section of wall reassured her. The glyphs embedded in the mosaic indicated there was only one intruder and he was trapped by the entry wards guarding the ballroom balcony doors.

She touched the intercom. "Alfred? Are you there?"

Fear gnawed at her heart. Fear made her walk faster searching for the trusted family retainer. Fear made her draw her wand, ready to cast without restraint. Fear made her blood boil when she saw the unconscious butler lying near the foot of the stairs. How had this happened? The intruder was in the ballroom! She did not kneel next to the elderly man. If she did, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to get up. A diagnostic spell relieved some of her fear. He was alive, just unconscious from a knockout dart. He probably stumbled out of the ballroom after being hit and collapsed at the stairs.

Her spine stiffened with righteous ire as she stalked into the ballroom, wand held out. She did not care if the intruder saw her. He would not remember anything soon enough.

Then she saw him. The wide manic smile, the pasty skin and green hair.

"Hello there Mrs Batman. You look just about ready to pop out more little bats." He grinned slyly. "Will they follow in Big Bat's wings?"

A small stab of fear threatened to grow out of control. He knew! He knew Bruce was Batman! He knew! Then crystal clear clarity descended upon her, snuffing out her panic. She knew what she had to do.

She lifted her wand and cast a single spell.

~o~

Batman cursed as he swung the Batmobile into a hairpin turn. The automated clamps kept the machine from skidding into the abyss as he leapt up and ran for the Manor. If Hermione was safe he would not fight her on the Portkey issue. He'd take a set with him every night he went out. He didn't have to use it, just keep it in case of an emergency. Like this. He pushed his body to move faster. He knew Batgirl and Robin were just behind him. He prayed they weren't too late.

"Where?" Robin asked.

"Ball room. Side. High. Low." Was Batman's gritty response.

When the three of them rushed into the Wayne Manor ballroom they came to a complete halt. Lying on the black and white tiles was The Joker. His head lolled to one side, a thin trail of drool leaking from his mouth to the tile under his cheek.

Sitting on a chair pushed up against a pillar some distance away was Hermione. In black stretch pants under an over-sized flannel nightshirt that strained over her belly and fleecy robes hanging open. Her wand was out, held loose but at ready in her right hand while her left rubbed her bulge. The flannel shifted minutely when the infants within stretched and punched at the walls restraining them. Her hair was in a thick braid flowing over one shoulder and down her front.

She smiled upon seeing them.

"I am glad you're back." Then she frowned at the insensate Joker. "We need to do something about him."

Robin frowned. "What do you mean? He's going back to Arkham."

Hermione blinked. "Of course he is. I mean about why he is here and how he got knocked out."

Robin blushed. "Oh."

Then Hermione pushed herself off the chair. "Merlin it is getting difficult to do that." She groaned just as she found her balance. Absently she began rubbing the small of her back as she walked towards Batman. "There is something else. He targeted you."

Batman's voice was raw. "Yes."

Hermione glanced around, her eyes soft as they fell on Robin. "He has known of Batman's identity for a while. He targeted Batman because he was more interesting. Robin. Batgirl. Robin. Me." Her voice was stark. "He called me Mrs. Batman." She touched her belly. "He asked if the little bats will follow in Big Bat's wings."

Ice flooded Batman's veins. He barely heard her continue.

Her voice was pure steel. "I cannot allow a threat to us, to our children, to exist so I took care of it." All three stared at her. "I Obliviated him. Permanent neuro-pathway scarring. I used the first time he broke the law as the ending point. I don't know how many memories he will have when he wakes up."

All three stared with wide eyes.

"You did that? To protect us?" Robin's voice was thin.

Hermione frowned. "All of us." She corrected. "All of us and Gotham. With any luck, he'll wake up with the memories and mindset of a teenager. With a little luck and a good psychiatrist, he might be able to straighten his life. He will no longer have the memories and experiences that shaped The Joker." She looked at Batman. "Try to get him moved to an out-of-state asylum. It is best if he has a clean start in new surroundings. He will need some kind of supervised living for at least a few years while he adjusts to being a teenager in a man's body. If he slips again, it will clearly be by his own choice."

Batman frowned. "Are you going to do this to all the Rogues you come across?"

Hermione snorted derisively. "Of course not. Just the unpredictable personal threats. The obsessed ones with absolutely no conscience or rules." She rubbed the small of her back more firmly. "Alfred is fine; the drugged dart should be wearing off in a few hours. I would have moved him but I wasn't quite sure of what you wanted to tell the police so I left him at the foot of the stairs. Think of a story and let me know before calling them." She jerked her head towards The Joker. "He should not wake up for at least a few hours." Then she turned to Batman and wrinkled her nose. "You need a bath. You are filthy from running around Gotham rounding up the escapees." Then she began walking towards the arched entryway. "And you owe me a back rub!" Her voice reached the vigilantes clearly. "My muscles are all knotted up from the tension. And it doesn't help that the babies are over stimulated from the adrenaline rush."

~o~

Two hours later, Hermione felt a strong, hard body slip into bed just behind her.

"Do I need to get up?" She asked drowsily.

"No." His voice was low, Batman's voice but gentle. "I spoke to Gordon. Said I tracked The Joker to Wayne Manor. He was tasered in the face by an experimental new security system Bruce Wayne had installed after The Penguin crashed the fundraiser. The Joker was hit in the face, lost his balance and fell hard. It must have caused some head injuries causing the amnesia. Before being caught by the system, he managed to knock out the family retainer but he didn't reach the upper levels and family rooms. You were asleep the whole time and not required to make a statement. Alfred has been cleared by the EMTs."

"Good." She mumbled as she struggled to turn over. She felt his amusement as he helped her shift positions to face him, so her belly was between them. "You can start making up by getting your children to settle down." She grumbled. "Every time I manage to fall asleep they wake me up. And don't forget, you still owe me a back rub."

He chuckled softly and obeyed her orders. Strong hands stroked the taunt skin through the gaps in the buttons of her nightshirt. The fragile bud of hope bloomed that night. It put out roots that anchored deep. Her confrontation with The Penguin was no fluke. She was strong and more than capable of facing the challenges of living in Gotham.

"Marry me." The words were voiced in Batman's voice, harsh and deep.

"Not yet. Want you to be certain." She murmured drowsily.

"I am. I have been since you took out The Penguin."

"We can wait. There is no rush."

Bruce frowned down at the curly head torn between bemusement and affection. Most women would push for a commitment, especially a pregnant one. But not Hermione! She wanted to wait and give him the time to be certain of what he wanted. He wondered how he could prove that to her. They had become much closer after the Weasleys installed the new wards. The near miss with The Penguin drove it home. He wanted her. He wanted all that she could be and do for him. And he wanted to be and do all that for her in turn. But how could he show it to her? Expensive pieces of jewellery or parading her in front of the media would definitely not cut it. He needed to do something that would make it very clear to her exactly what she meant to him.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…


	8. Doors Open & Doors Close

AN: He finally persuades her to marry him at the nth hour. And Hermione meets an ex-girlfriend.

* * *

**~ooO Doors Open & Close Ooo~**

"Tell me Lucius, what do you suggest I do?"

Lucius Fox stared, amused at the clearly bewildered younger man across the private restaurant table.

"Do? There is nothing you can do Bruce. When a woman digs in her heels the best thing you can do is wait her out."

A faint frown creased Bruce Wayne's brow. "That is not an option. Hermione is set to deliver any day now and she's still putting me off. Every time I try to talk to her about it she somehow diverts my attention." He shook his head. "I never realize it until she has already moved onto something else."

"And how does Alfred feel? Perhaps some gentle persuasion on his part…?"

Bruce shook his head. "I expected her to get some of her way in the Manor but not to the extent she has! Alfred is very pleased about the situation. He's been after me to settle down for years and he sees this as my rightful karma. He is also firmly on her side to make me wait." He sighed mournfully. "She's got everyone in the house either loving her or utterly confused."

Lucius smiled. "Really? And does she confuse Batman?"

Bruce smiled faintly. "She confuses and awes him most." Then he frowned as the soft new message tone of his Blackberry interrupted their lunch. Quickly he checked the new text message and paled. "I have to go Lucius. Hermione is in labour."

Lucius nodded. "Do you need a lift? I don't think I'll trust you in any vehicle just now." He jerked his chin at the billionaire's hands which were trembling.

Bruce stared at his hands bewildered. "I think I'll take you up on that offer. Alfred is with her right now. Gotham General."

~o~

Hermione was sweaty and aching.

"I'm so sorry Alfred!"

She had nearly crushed the bones in the elderly butler's hand in her last contraction.

Alfred discreetly massaged his hand stifling his wince. "Do not worry about that, Miss."

She shook her head. "I should have realized I was in labour. It's just that my back has been aching for weeks! I didn't realise it was different."

"Mr Wayne! Just slow down!"

Hermione blinked as Bruce burst into the room, ignoring the much smaller Japanese nurse trying to stop him. She could see he was wearing a full three-piece and suit under blue tie-over gown. She smiled despite the pain.

"You look ridiculous," were her first words to him. Then she winced as a fresh contraction began rippling through her.

She was barely aware of him moving fast, taking Alfred's place, helping her sit up long enough to get access to her back. Then the contraction was not so bad. His strokes were strong and sure. Familiar. In the past few weeks, it had become routine for him to massage her back to relieve the tension and strain of carrying so much weight.

The contraction ended. She sagged against him.

"Thank you."

She felt more than heard his response. The urgent need in his touch, the slight fear and wonder in his voice breathing in her ear.

"No, I thank you."

"For what?"

"For what you gave me, are giving me, will give me."

She sighed. "You don't have to worry, Bruce. I will never stop you from bonding with the children."

"It is not just them. It is also you. What you've brought into my life. Warmth. Friends. Understanding. Acceptance."

She laughed softly. "You've just been hanging around the wrong sort of people."

"And you have a knack for finding the right sort." He countered.

She smiled. "If you say so. That and trouble."

His arms tightened around her waist. "Somehow I can't bring myself to care about that last point. I can handle the chaos as long as you are with me."

She turned to see his face. There was a vulnerable open expression, a faint yearning. "Are you sure about that?"

His answer was as open. "Yes. Please marry me."

She stared into his eyes for long seconds before she nodded. "Okay."

A broad smile spread across his face. "Great." He turned to Alfred and the nurse who had been silent witnesses to the whole thing. "Does the hospital have a chaplain? Someone who can perform a marriage ceremony?"

Eyes widened. Hermione opened her mouth to protest.

"Bruce! You can't be serious!"

"I'll locate the chaplain immediately Master Bruce." Then Alfred ducked out of the private delivery room.

"You can't be serious!" Hermione whispered. "I'm in labour! We need a license!"

Bruce produced a piece of paper. "I've been carrying one around for weeks. It helps that I have some pull with City Hall. All it needs is your signature to make it legal." He ran his fingers through her sweaty curls. "I don't want to wait. We can have a second ceremony later if you want something more formal."

Their eyes met and then she nodded. "All right. I'd like Barbara to be one of the witnesses if possible."

Bruce nodded, a small triumphant smile curling his lips. "I'll ask Tim to pick her up."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Selina Kyle frowned as the bellhop closed the door to her hotel room. She ignored her unopened suitcases and walked to the dinette table. There was a pile of all the major papers and magazines she had requested and her laptop.

She opened a bottle of water from the mini-bar and began working through the news, hard copy first then online back issues. By the time she was done, her stomach was a tight knot and her mood was fluctuating between rage, depression, and envy.

How dare he!

How dare he what, Selina? The voice of her conscience rebuked her. How dare he try to move on and find someone else who cared for him? Someone who was willing to stay with him and share his life? Someone willing to give him children? A family of his own?

She touched her waist. A botched theft left her heavily scarred years ago. Every doctor she had consulted gave her the same answer: it was very unlikely she could conceive naturally. Each had offered alternatives including IVF if she wanted to have children. But she didn't, not just yet, not when there was so much to see and do!

She forced her emotions aside and focused on the facts.

There was no indication of Bruce having a serious relationship with his houseguest before Oswald attacked her. Everyone had believed she was just a family friend waiting for her significant other to join her at some point in the future. Bruce had escorted her to various social events but neither one had slipped to reveal their intimate relationship. Something one could expect from Bruce who was used to compartmentalizing but what about her? How could someone so young maintain such a perfect façade for weeks, months?

Then the way they met; it was too pat. Selina strongly suspected they met while Bruce was on a case. But she knew how focused Batman got on the job. How and Why did he ever relax to have a relationship with someone he never met before? And to not take precautions! It was not like Bruce or Batman. Did she drug him? Hypnotize him? Was she blackmailing him? Selina had to talk to him and see for herself.

Her hands smoothed the glossy sheets as she re-read one of the newest articles.

~o~

Gotham Billionaire Marries his English Rose.

Twin Heirs to the Wayne Legacy.

Citizens of Gotham, it has been confirmed: Bruce Wayne has wed British expatriate Hermione Granger. The former resident of Britain had moved to America to co-habitat with the Gothamite business magnate for the latter half of her pregnancy. There had been no announcement or plans regarding an engagement or marriage until she gave birth to the billionaire's first biological children, twin heirs to the Wayne dynasty. Bruce Wayne has confirmed the eldest is a son named Liam Alfred Wayne born 7:49 p.m. and the second born is a daughter named Martha Jean Wayne born 8:03 p.m. Mother and children are doing well and have been given the okay to go home despite being three weeks premature. Doctors say both are healthy and well-developed, that premature delivery is usual in the case of multiple births.

The marriage ceremony itself took place in the hospital delivery room, just hours before the Wayne twins arrived. "Hermione was determined to wait and be sure of my feelings. I carried a marriage license for a few weeks while I worked on getting her to say yes. I'm not sure if it was the labour or my persuasive words but she finally agreed to marry me in the delivery room. I wasn't going to wait and give her the chance to change her mind. We will of course hold a formal reception at a future date." When asked about his personal feelings in regards to the situation his response was unexpectedly open and heartfelt. "I am Very happy with events. Hermione has given me more than children, she has given me a family. I've spent a lot of years looking and met quite a few women who I thought could be the One. But now when I think about it, I have to confess none of my past relationships had the depths I have with my wife."

Bruce Wayne's adopted children and teenage wards also share his opinion about his new wife and their relationship. Richard Grayson said, "after Hermione moved in, Bruce really relaxed. We used to fight a lot on our different views of doing things but Hermione gives him a different perspective that helps." Tim Drake noted, "Hermione doesn't look like it but she has a core of pure steel. When she decides to make a stand, she pushes hard and you can't help but listen. She isn't intimidated by Bruce, his name or wealth." Hermione Wayne was not available for any comments.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Bruce hummed softly as he lifted his fretful daughter from the antique muslin curtained cradle and rocked her against his bare chest. She was quicker to wake than her twin brother was. Even if she didn't settle down it was almost time for her next meal.

Then he felt the quartz stones embedded in the titanium wristband warm. There was an intruder in the house. An unexpected breeze wafted through the nursery.

"Hello Bruce."

He stiffened and turned to face the knee-to-ceiling windows. One set was opened and framing an old lover in a clinging grey cat suit.

"Hello Selina."

~o~

Selina Kyle stared at the man she loved, the man devoted to a cause that tended to put them at cross-purpose. There was no hint of desire in his eyes when he looked at her. Inwardly she frowned.

"What are you doing here?" He asked softly as he rocked the baby in his arms.

She smiled secretively. "I heard the news and I had to see it for myself. I mean, you married and already a father? And that little bit about getting married just hours before your children were born… I never thought you would have been careless to get any woman pregnant. Especially on a case. You did meet her on a case, didn't you?"

Bruce smiled faintly. "Sort of." He brushed a large hand over the small head of curls. "But I cannot regret anything."

Selina frowned. "You didn't have to marry her to get custody! Any court will see you are just as suitable to have primary custody as the biological mother is. You have a good reputation, money and experience raising kids."

Bruce looked amused. "I'm afraid you are mistaken Selina. I wanted more than just my children. I wanted their mother."

Selina blinked. "As a maternal figure? Surely there are more trustworthy women you can ask to help you raise them!"

"Like you?" His voice was sardonic.

Selina was taken aback. "No. Not me. But perhaps the Commissioners daughter? Barbara Gordon?"

Bruce studied her hard and shook his head. "I wanted to marry Hermione for more than just her maternal abilities. She is a wonderful friend and very supportive about all my interests." His dark blue eyes were very steady as they met green. "She accepts all parts of me. She does not favour one over the other." As you did was unspoken.

Selina stilled. "She's just hoping you die on the job." She retorted spitefully.

That made him laugh. "I'm afraid you are mistaken on that. One of the first things she did was demand certain changes that have had positive benefits in my night time activities."

"She knows?"

"She figured it out days after meeting both of me."

"What happened to what you always used to say? That your quest was more important than any relationship? That you weren't willing to risk any hostages to misfortune and chance. How can a normal, untrained woman handle the danger? What if she were attacked by someone more violent than The Penguin?"

Bruce smiled. "Like The Joker?"

Selina blinked. "Yes! Like him."

"I am surprised the Commissioner managed to keep it under wraps for so long." A soft unfamiliar voice answered in a polished English accent.

Selina whirled to the doorway. The bitch had somehow snuck up without setting off her danger senses! Carefully the cat-thief studied her rival. She was not tall and more rounded than fashionable. Her stride was graceful as she crossed the room to join Bruce. She had some martial arts training in her past. Her breasts were full and almost spilling over the deep V of the mid-calf length empire-style nightgown made of light blue cotton-lycra knit she wore under an enveloping mauve fleecy robe. Instead of regular slippers, she wore a pair of black ballet-flats laced up with ribbons. Curly brown hair was brushed and twisted into an old-fashioned single braid down her back. Her features were defined but not perfect taken singly, but as a whole she was attractive, not gorgeous like any of Bruce's old girlfriends.

The younger woman did not show fear, envy, or anger. She just looked at Selina, cataloguing almost everything seen and unseen about the older woman. Selina tore her eyes away and looked at Bruce.

"What if someone like The Joker attacks your wife?"

"I'm afraid that is quite impossible." The British woman answered clearly amused by something. "The Joker has been… dealt with. Quite permanently."

Green eyes widened. "He is dead? There was nothing in the papers!"

Bruce ignored her question as he passed the child he was carrying to Hermione. Then he watched as she seated herself in one of the two padded rocking chairs.

Selina watched as her old lover passed a blanket and pillow to his wife and helped her make the adjustments to breastfeed the child in her arms. Hermione Wayne shifted the child under the light blanket thrown over the two of them before settling back.

Only then did she respond to Selina's question.

"The Joker is not dead… per say."

Selina glanced at Bruce who nodded slightly before turning to his wife. "The Joker made a threat Hermione would not tolerate. She is quite protective of family."

Pale gold eyes met green without flinching. "Currently Jack Napier is a resident of Maryland's Atworthy Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Through an unfortunate series of events and an experimental security system the criminal known as The Joker lost his memories all the way back to when he was twenty-three. His criminal records began when he was twenty-five. Psychiatrists are evaluating his current state of mind. They believe they will be able to eventually release him on parole since Jack Napier does not have the mindset, experience or mania of The Joker."

"You erased his memories?"

Gold flashed dangerously. Selina nearly stepped back. "He threatened my children." She snapped with no remorse or regret. "Bruce is far more civilized than I am. If it wasn't for him I would have killed the bastard without hesitation." The gold simmered. "And I would have been perfectly justified, a pregnant woman acting against an escaped, convicted murderer who broke into her private residence."

Selina was confused. "But how?" She wanted to know. "It would take an experienced team days of preparation to selectively wipe and recondition a man. And I didn't think it could work on someone like The Joker!"

Gold eyes, cat eyes, were amused. "You are mistaken Miss Kyle. I didn't recondition the bastard. I simply wiped his memories out. He got a mental reset for a certain number of years. What he does from now on is entirely up to him."

Suddenly this mild, unassuming looking woman became a heck of a lot more dangerous. No wonder Bruce was not afraid- Wait a second! Green eyes narrowed. "How do I know you haven't done your mind-wipe trick on Bruce?"

To her shock, Bruce chuckled. "Oh she has." He touched the top of his wife's head. "After the first time we met Hermione wiped my memories and sent me back."

"Your kidnapping and amnesia." Selina began connecting the dots.

"Correct." Hermione murmured. "I was involved in some dangerous activities. There were too many people looking to kill me. It was not safe for Bruce so I sent him away. I had not counted on getting pregnant though."

More facts fell into place. "The JLA was in Europe. There was some terrorist activity in Britain." Selina voiced out her thoughts.

"Yes. Once it was settled, Hermione had agreed to move to Gotham, to give her friends in Britain the time to handle the aftermath. As we got to know each other it became pretty clear we are a good match. I asked her to marry me. She kept putting me off until she was in the delivery room." Bruce concluded simply.

"And you trust this woman? She wiped your memories!" Selina was aghast.

Blue eyes were clear and calm. "I remember what happened. The sad thing is I can understand why she did it. If I had been any other man…" He trailed off.

"But you are not." Hermione murmured. "You are not and I love you for it." She looked at Selina. "Let it be Miss Kyle. What we've shared has shaped us. He is not the same man you once knew. Don't make things more difficult for yourself."

Selina's ego stung at that veiled threat. "Shouldn't that be up to Bruce? I mean you are not exactly meeting the photogenic standards of his past lovers."

Bruce and Hermione just looked amused.

"Selina, I did not date you because you are beautiful. It may have caught my eye but I never would have tried to make it work for just that. I admired your determination, your strength, convictions and courage; even your more shady skills. You were not afraid of my alter-ego and more than able to look after yourself. I just didn't like the way you had chosen to apply yourself."

"And what about her?" Selina jerked her chin at Hermione who was shifting the child under her blanket to her other breast.

Her old lover's voice was soft and affectionate, full of warmth and wonder. "I never would have looked at Hermione because she does not stand out, because she prefers to stay in the background. But when we met it was not in usual circumstances. It was impossible to Not see her strength, courage and determination. And her ruthlessness, her drive to make her vision come true. Her unbending ethics, a set of principles that mirrors Batman's. Both skewed to encompass more than the rule of law or social mores. And she is willing and able to understand, match, and help both Bruce Wayne and Batman."

He knelt beside his wife, so their eyes were on the same level. When their eyes met, Selina saw she had lost. He loved her. Just as she loved him.

I will not cry, I will not cry. Selina told herself sternly. A long vacation was in order. Somewhere much warmer than Gotham.

"Then I wish both of you the best." Selina spoke in careful tones. Then she frowned. "I must confess I am curious about your security system. It must be good to take out The Joker. Isn't it active right now?"

Hermione Wayne smiled, a slow warm expression. "It is Miss Kyle. Try stepping into the room."

Selina blinked and obeyed. Lightly she stepped off the ledge. Before she took more than three steps into the room she ran into an energy field that bounced her back. Carefully she reached out to test the range of the barrier. It was a large circular arch that started from one window edge to the other side that extended as high as she could reach. Experimentally she tossed a rapping hook at the ceiling only for it to return at high speeds after bouncing off the barrier's roof.

Gold eyes met Selina's gravely. "Experimental security. Definitely not for the general market. Most likely not ever."

Selina shook her head. "How likely am I to run into something like this?"

Hermione tilted her head to one side. "It is possible." She admitted. "If you do I highly recommend avoiding that household unless you are very, very sure. And be prepared for nasty surprises."

Selina blinked at that bit of advice. She glanced at Bruce who nodded, affirming his wife's advice. "Okay. I'll think about that." Her heart ached. "Good bye, Bruce."

Then she threw herself out of the window in a back flip.

Hermione made a noise of protest.

"She'll be fine." Bruce murmured soothingly. "Selina has more lives than a cat."

"Do you wish… That you could have made it work with her?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"At times, yes. But not since you came to Gotham. Now I only wish she finds someone who accepts her like you accept me."

Hermione hummed. "I'm sure she will. You should wish for her to recognize it. That is generally the more tricky part." Gold eyes were calm and loving. "It is too easy to walk past your perfect One and never know it."

He leaned forward and kissed her. It was intimate without excessive heat, filled with promise and affection.

"How much longer?"

"Three weeks. George dropped off some healing potions he picked up in San Francisco. He sounded like he was interested in Julie."

Bruce chuckled. "When is she moving?"

"Next month. It will not be the same as her living in Gotham but Chicago is a lot closer than San Francisco."

"Is there a reason why she chose Chicago?"

"It is younger than Salem. More experimental." Hermione confided. "Julie has some interesting theories about blending mundane medicine and magic. St Eckhart's is willing to cover her research and case studies."

"St Eckhart's. Who is the Administrator?"

"Senior Healer Matthias Warrington. I believe you know of him. His nephew is one of those interviewed and hired by George."

"Would he be interested in a donation?"

"Of course. Just make sure you make a few others so that Julie's future co-workers do not get overly envious."

Bruce chuckled. "Of course."

There was a comfortable silence.

"Bruce."

"Yes Hermione?"

"You are happy, right? This is what you want, right?" Her tone was tentative.

His response was direct. "It is everything I dreamed of, but thought I'd never have. A family, a wife who accepts me, one who can look after herself, one comfortable with staying in the background while at the same time is not afraid of fighting for what she believes in." His voice became more thoughtful. "I never thought of it but I should be grateful for Lucius Malfoy, for his bigotry and malice. If it wasn't for his scheming, I would never have been so blessed."

Hermione was taken aback. "Yes. It turned out to be a good thing, didn't it?" Her voice became more confident. "Blessings from malice."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

The End.


End file.
